Please, Don't Worry About Me
by Gin-inu
Summary: What would you do if you were very sick and didn't want your best friend to know? If you couldn't tell your family because they couldn't afford it? What would you say if your best friend's girlfriend found out and might give you away? Welcome to my world
1. Not again KPOV

**A/N: I've never written a story like this before so bear with me a little…I just wanted to try out writing a story for SP instead of anime but that doesn't mean I am stopping writing for anime altogether. **

**Remember I am just experimenting with a story so don't expect this to be extremely accurate with the show…I'll do my best though. And I am not an expert on medicine or diseases so I am going to have to look up a few things for this…**

_Thinking/ Flashbacks_

"Talking"

(KPOV)

Blood…

Blood again…

Sighing I fall back against the bathroom wall and slide my hand over my face as if it was a dream and I could swipe my vision clean.

If only.

This is the third time within the past two months that blood had come out of me and it isn't a regular occurrence like a paper cut or falling off a bike. Taking another breath and hoping this wouldn't be a normal thing for me I push off the wall and grab a washcloth.

Turning on the sink I rinse the cloth and start to wash out the small path of blood running down my sink. There are two drops that look like they are racing to get to the drain.

_Too bad they won't make it,_ I think and roll the cloth over them making them disappear.

"Shame…" I mumble and wring out the cloth. The left drop was winning. After I hang it up on the towel rack and convince myself the pain in my gut is just from hunger and not from spitting out "liquid life" I go back into my room to change for school.

Lately school has been a bummer. Stan and Wendy have been hanging out recently and completely ignoring me. At first I thought it was annoying. You know the typical snuggling and kissing and _Oh I can't stop looking into you beautiful eyes! _kind of stuff…Bleh! But when I started having these pains in my gut and spitting out blood I absolutely _loved_ it.

I loved when Wendy would give Stan Eskimo kisses so I could hold my arm tightly over my stomach and wince and they both wouldn't notice. I loved when Stan would play with Wendy's hair so I could sneak off to the bathroom and practically throw up without him detecting. I loved when they would talk about their relationship so intimately that I could make up a quick excuse to go home and take more pain medication as if it weren't a big deal and Stan wouldn't question why.

In laments terms: It keeps Stan distracted.

You know why I love a distracted Stan? It's because Stan gets worried easily, and when Stan worries he can't think of anything else and when Stan can't think of anything else his grades go down as well as his relationship with Wendy and if Stan worried about me…I'd feel bad. And feeling bad _sucked_.

I pull my shirt over my head and grab my backpack on the way downstairs. In the kitchen I open a cupboard and look for something quick like pop tarts.

"Kyle honey, good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah mom. Like a rock," I reply and stick both sugar coated treats in the toaster. I look up to see her smile and go back to fixing breakfast for a half-asleep Ike. He looked like he just climbed out of bed; poor guy. I would hate to walk into class like that. I wonder if he felt how he looks. I know I sure did.

A pop turns my attention back to the toaster where my "breakfast" awaits. Seriously, this wasn't breakfast. It was dessert in a quick, transportable form. The smell of it makes me sick but I am still going to eat it even if my stomach protests.

I do it because I don't want my mom to notice I haven't been eating breakfast like I normally used to do. We are on a tight budget lately. We have enough to pay bills and get groceries but that is about it. It's almost like a dry spell for money.

If my mom knew I was having issues like this I didn't know what would happen. Would we lose the house? Would we not get any electricity or clean water and depend on the neighbors? Would Ike not be able to attend the fieldtrip to see the Statue of Liberty that he'd been dying to go on since the first grade?

I couldn't cope with myself if any of that happened just because I had to go to the hospital. Hopefully my dad will get a few good cases and can make decent money again. Until then I am going to have to deal…somehow…hopefully…

God my stomach hurts.

"I'm late so I'll eat on the way. See you," I mumble and head for the door.

"Have a good day," I hear Ike yell drowning out whatever my mom is saying to me. It's probably something embarrassing anyways so I'm thankful.

On the way I find myself feeling sicker than the last time I had one of these fits. Maybe my mom won't notice the two half eaten pop tarts buried by the postbox down the street.

I straighten up when Stan and Wendy come into view at the bus stop. Cartman and Kenny don't show up here anymore since Cartman got his license. Now he picks up Kenny on his way to school. I, on the other hand, don't have my license because we haven't had enough money to get me one yet. Stan still got picked up by the bus because he has yet to get a car, although I have been informed he was very close to getting a black Honda Civic 1998. When he gets it I'd be the only one attending the bus.

Whoo-hoo.

That is unless he let me carpool with Wendy.

_But then where will they make out? _My mind screams sarcastically and I roll my eyes.

"Hey Kyle," Stan greets smiling. He is always smiling around Wendy. I smile back and greet him too.

Wendy and I make eye contact and we both smile politely. What else are we supposed to do? I can't just tongue wrestle her like Stan does when they greet. Somehow I think Stan wouldn't like that very much.

"Hi Wendy," I grin. "How are you today?"

She returns it with a cute little bunny smile. Boy isn't she just the greatest piece of perfect you can find under the sun? "Fantastic. And you Kyle?"

"Super."

"Really?" she questions and for a second I don't like the look in her eyes. "You don't look like you're super. You sort of look like you are going to throw up."

This statement takes Stan's eyes away from Wendy's figure and redirects it at me.

No. No. Definitely _no_.

I refuse to have Stan's curious eyes on me searching for anything out of place.

"I'm fine. I just remembered I didn't study for the huge history test today." This seems to stop Stan from assessing my physical condition and turns his attention to the horrors of the classroom.

"That was today? I thought he said next Tuesday!" Stan exclaims and his face falls into a frown.

"We've been in this chapter for almost two weeks. I don't think we're going to spend close to a month on the Civil War, Stan," I laugh awkwardly and try to ignore waves of pain shooting from my stomach to my head. I probably should have grabbed a few aspirin before leaving.

"Well it's not like I keep tabs on how long we work on sections…You'll probably get an A though. I don't get how you can ace practically every test you get. You're right up there with Wendy," he says and Wendy suddenly looks very cozy next to Stan.

_Up there with Wendy? You mean Wendy's almost up there with me, _my mind scoffs. I already know I'm smarter than her or at least on par with her. Two years ago it was, "Wendy's almost as smart as you". I don't like the change.

The bus pulls up before I can say anything about Stan's wording and the doors fling open. As we board I can still faintly taste metal on the back of my tongue but think nothing of it. Too bad I don't pay attention to it sooner…

ABCDEFGHIJKLMN

The test isn't that hard. I never thought it was going to be but it was slightly challenging. I place my pencil down and look at the clock. It's only second period and I finished thirty minutes early.

All the other kids are still working on their tests. How come I am always finished first? There is never anything to do. I hate finishing first.

…

Ok that's a lie. I love it. It may sound nerdy but I am proud of my place in my classes. No one is quicker and more accurate at tests than I am.

No, not even Wendy.

On my right a seat diagonally in front of me I see Stan slumped over and scribbling words on his paper. He is only halfway through his test.

On my left I see Pip. He is two-thirds done with his test. Everyone should be done in fifteen minutes at least. The essay question at the end should stop a few in their tracks.

Sheesh, I can enjoy the silence more if my stomach isn't hurting so much today. I don't even know why. The last time I spit blood my stomach hurt for an hour after and then it was slight soreness throughout the day. This made me feel like I was being gutted like a wild pig.

I can deal though right? Mind over matter will do the job right?

I try to focus on something. The ticks of the clock take my attention for seventy ticks before I do feel like I need to get some fresh air or wipe my face in water.

"Mr. Walker may I please use the restroom?" I ask at his desk and try to stay standing up tall. He hesitates before nodding and I head for the door.

My eyes lock with Stan on the way out and I manage to keep a straight face till I am out the door. From there all the way to the bathroom I am crouched over. By the time I reach the bathroom I throw open a stall and heave.

I shake and my head pounds and there isn't anything I can do about it but sit back and _enjoy the ride_. My whole body feels hot and breathing suddenly feels like a chore. When I finish I give myself a few seconds to regain myself.

"Nice," I mutter wiping my mouth from any excess vomit. I shut my eyes and count to twenty. Breathing is easier now and the world has stopped spinning. The edges aren't fuzzy anymore and I feel myself sigh with relief when the stabbing turns to aching.

I feel a different kind of sick when I look in the toilet to see mixed with my vomit is a light, almost barely noticeable layer of red. I plop on my butt, my eyes still glued to the toilet bowel as if it was a stranger with a major facial deformity.

"T-twice?" I breathe and blink. It never happens twice in a day.

I don't know exactly how long it is until I manage to stand up still looking at the toilet not quite sure what to think. _It couldn't be getting worse…_

"Just the pop tarts…" I try and convince myself but I know it's not the pop tarts. The pop tarts I ate were cinnamon not cherry or strawberry.

"Pop tarts," I glare and flush the toilet suddenly in denial.

When I get to the sink I notice my bangs are slightly moist and my face is a little paler than normal. A few readjustments are in order. A little wash to the face with sink water and tucking the hair under my hat makes me look as good as new; good enough anyway.

_I'll just forget the whole thing, _I think walking down the hall back to the classroom.

Then why can't I stop muttering pop tarts?


	2. Watchful eyes KPOV

**A/N: I identified the medical problem I'm giving Kyle. It won't be revealed for a while though.**

(KPOV)

"What are you staring at, fatass?"

In front of me stands a large figure so big that its head alone could block out the sun leaving us in darkness for ages. A creature so vile that everyone likes to believe his blood is made of acid. Something so horrible no one willingly wants to look at directly for fear of turning to stone or the granite equivalent.

In short we like to call him Cartman.

He huffs and I notice his eyelids lower slightly showing me he doesn't want an argument with whatever he is going to ask of me.

"You're my partner for the stupid presentation next Friday," he says and glares down at me. I can't seem to move my slouched figure in my desk and merely just look at him with an expression I can only assume could be translated as "…What?"

"…What?" Precisely what I was thinking.

He rolls his eyes and places his hands on my desk getting closer to my face and making me very uncomfortable. "We have an assignment do next Friday, Jew, and you're my partner."

I lean back and try to ignore how gross it feels to have his warm cheesypoof breath on my face. "Were the partners assigned?" I ask.

He merely scoffs. There's my answer.

"No way, retard. You'll just end up fighting with me and I'll have to do all the work. I'm not going to be your partner. Find someone else to mooch off of." It doesn't come out as acidic as I would like but I'm not really in the mood to fight with him today. I feel bad enough without Cartman having to make it worse.

"There's no one left," he smirks and motions to the class already in pairs of two. He had to be kidding me. "Here's a tip," he tells me and removes his hands so he could drag a desk up next to mine. "Don't drift off in English. Our teacher is a group-aholic. You'll get stuck with me."

Crap. That's the first statement Cartman has ever made that made the most sense in my life.

Giving one last exhausted look around the classroom I turn my attention back to Cartman. "So there's really no one else?"

"Nope," he says and leans back in his desk to get more comfortable.

"Fine," I sigh and sit up straighter wincing only for a moment at the hollow feeling in my gut. "What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know something about _The Great Gatsby _and making a poster," he mutters with his eyes shut. Boy did I get the prize of the pack.

"Anything more specific?" I ask trying to make my voice as pleasant as possible and not to growl.

"A report. Don't worry, I have the paper for it," he breathes lazily and digs through his pockets. He finally finds it and it's been crumpled and a corner is torn off.

I hope this was given out a week ago because no paper should have to go through such tortures within a day's period. I know it wasn't handed out a week ago though because I am always aware of these things.

_Always._

I take it from him (more like snatch) and read. There are only five questions needing to be answered on a poster board as well as a picture depicting the events in the book. Each group is also required to write a two page minimum report on why Gatsby represents a sarcastic opinion of the American Dream.

…

……

………………

Boy this is gay.

I look at the clock and see there is only ten minutes till lunch. Silently I thank God that this day is halfway over.

We work in our groups till the bell rings for lunch and then gather our things to leave. My group consists of me, myself, and I. I don't care what Cartman says, he is going to make me do all the work. If I relied on him I will most likely be blown off and get a bad grade.

With that knowledge I trudge off to lunch willing to accept that fact, or at least in the process of accepting it.

When I get to our usual table I see Kenny, Butters, Stan, and Wendy. What is that they're doing; holding hands? How sweet. Oh look! Now they're kissing. _Wonderful_. I wonder what they would think if they realized Kenny's eyes were glued to them like a dog's to a steak.

Good times. Kenny always manages to make me smile.

"Excuse me, but I thought dessert was supposed to be after the main course?" I ask and squeeze in between Kenny and Butters across from Stan and Wendy. I know better than to try and sit on Stan's side again. Apparently Wendy likes to keep her hands wandering under the table.

I sure went home in a daze that day.

Stan and Wendy separate and look slightly embarrassed. "Hey Kyle."

Sigh, I miss the old Stan. I used to be able to hear him yell "Hey Kyle" across the school before I even got to the table. Now he had to be reminded I was here. Wendy should go eat with Bebe and Heidi or something.

"Hey. Did I miss anything interesting aside from our lovely couple's physical display of affection?" I ask and place my backpack behind me under the bench.

"N-no, not really Kyle," Butters stutters like usual and takes a bite from his peanut butter and jelly sandwich he has on the table. "Lunch just started y'know."

"Right," I say and take out a water bottle from my backpack. There is just enough for a sip to ease the burn in the back of my throat. I finish it off quickly and tuck the empty bottle back in my backpack. Where is a recycle bin when you need one?

"Jeez, drink enough water Kyle?"

"Huh?" I look up confused at Kenny. I think he's grinning but I'm not sure since his stupid hood is still in the way. No, I'm kidding. I like his hood.

"During third period you kept asking to leave Chem. to fill your water bottle up. You did it like five times I swear."

"Really?" Butters asks looking over at me.

"Yeah," Stan cuts in for a second taking a bite of a granola bar. "You drank all your water in history too."

I won't panic. Panic is for people who did something wrong.

I shrug and put my elbows on the table squinting as the sun shines off the snow and gets in my eyes. "My throat burns a tiny bit today. I might be a little dehydrated."

Such a simple answer won't make anyone give the subject another glance. It's true. Everyone brushes it off as a valid excuse and starts up another conversation about the creature Cartman ran over with his car this morning. I think Kenny is exaggerating when he says it had three tails spewing puss.

Throughout the whole conversation I can slowly feel my thirst for water becoming stronger but ignore it for fear of it causing a little commotion. Unfortunately my thirst overpowers me and I have to get up to refill my bottle.

All the way to the water fountain I can feel eyes on my back. A knot ties in my gut at the thought of Stan watching me. Is he concerned? Does he notice something wrong with the way I'm walking or something?

To my surprise when I turn around my eyes meet a pair of blue eyes. Not the blue eyes I'm expecting either; blue eyes outlined with eyeliner and mascara.

What is Wendy doing looking at me? And worse it is a suspicious kind of look; a look that requires one to look away immediately when caught.

I take my time walking back to test if what I saw was correct. Right about…there! She glances back up at me quickly again but tries to make it look like she is looking at Butters.

What the _fuck?_

I suddenly feel very self-conscious. I shouldn't since I haven't done anything wrong. It isn't like I was really sick. She can't notice I'm not feeling the best today with just a glance. I will be back up and kicking by tomorrow so let her look all she wants. Tomorrow there will be no evidence of anything I'm doing and able to overlook.

She is just imagining things.

OPQRSTUVWXYZ

Piece of crap body. It never worked how I wanted when I wanted it to.

In Gym today I tried to catch the stupid football when Craig decided, despite being on the same team, he just didn't want to move out of the way. I couldn't think and run at the same time. I just couldn't do it.

I ran into him practically going deaf at the cracking of our skulls and the ball hit the ground four feet behind us. Conveniently Kenny was there to point, laugh, and run the other way with it scoring his team a point.

Aside from my skull, my ego hurt a little. I sit up and rub my head noticing how gay I look sitting on Craig. He notices too and flips me off.

Typical.

In situations like these I wish I was like Stan. He may not be the smartest guy in the world but he can sure strategize playing football. He would have shoved Craig out of the way or at least maneuvered around him. I don't know how to do that. So instead I get laughed at by my so-called friend and sit on a boy who would sooner eat shit then have another boy on top of him, no matter what the circumstances.

I roll off of him and try to sit up_. What was Craig's skull made of, diamond_? Jeez, I'm surprised I'm not bleeding.

"You okay?" a concerned voice asks. I look up and see Stan standing over me, his look torn between concern and fake amusement to make it seem like it isn't a big deal. And it really isn't. I just have a piece of bone lodged into the center of my brain. There is probably a pill I can take for it later.

I grab his hand and he pulls me to my feet.

"How do you get your knees burned when you landed like that?" he laughs awkwardly at my tomato red knees. "I didn't even see your knees hit the grass."

"They didn't," I reply sarcastically. "This is just a deadly disease I've recently developed and it only shows when I embarrass myself in sports."

Stan laughs but there is a heavy feeling to it. He never liked when I make jokes about my well being. I've always been sick since I was little. My diabetes, my kidney failure, my chickenpox, my aids, etc…You name it I've probably had it.

Oh well. He needs to stop unintentionally worrying and get on with his life. I've accepted it and he will too eventually.

We go back to playing the game and Stan's team beats mine 10-6. Just once I'd like to be on the winning team. I haven't since the sixth grade.

Kenny flings his arm around my shoulder and laughs still making fun of how I fell. He gives me the details of how my face morphed from when I noticed I was going to hit Craig, to the moment of impact.

"Yeah, I really need to know in depth how stupid I looked," I say and smile dejectedly. He laughs harder and brags how his team won.

_Kenny, one day I am going to suffocate you in that hood of yours._

We get changed and wait for the bell to ring. The good thing about having Gym last is that you don't need to walk around for the rest of the day covered in your own sweat. Not a good feeling.

When the bell finally rings I gather my stuff and start for home. Today was too long for my taste not to mention how much homework I had.

Stupid Cartman.

Stupid stomach pains.

Stupid fractured skull.

Stupid Stan yelling at me…

Wait…Stan is yelling at me? I turn around to see Stan running towards me with his backpack hanging from one strap on his shoulder.

"What is it?" I ask not seeing Wendy with him like when they usually walk home.

He catches his breath and holds up his hand making me wait. When he is back to normal he tells me, "I just wanted to make sure you were fine, you know?" he says ineptly.

"I'm fine," I assure casually. "It wasn't that bad a hit."

He blinks. "Oh. Well that's good then…I just—you never know."

I sigh and pull his hat down over his eyes making him give a shout of protest.

"Dude, you need to stop worrying about me. I'm not a baby. I'm sixteen. You're blowing off your girlfriend for your friend who is 100 percent fine. You don't even live this way," I lecture. He shifts his feet a little and I can see his jaw tighten.

"Well…okay, okay. I guess I'm a little paranoid. But that's only because you were in the hospital last year," he says defeated.

"It was for a cracked collar bone, idiot."

"Which you got from playing football," he says sternly making me roll my eyes.

"I'm fine," I state one last time giving him a look that says I don't want to stand around in the cold just to have my friend worrying over nothing.

"Fine, but take it easy. Don't run anymore today."

"Whatever _mom_," I mumble making him punch me in the arm playfully. Too bad for me his playing hurt like hell. "That's child abuse."

After a quick goodbye he departs and heads the other way down the street till he's gone. I turn around and continue for my home not knowing I would have the worst night of sleep of my life.


	3. Of Accidents and Illness SPOV

**A/N: Sorry to end this so abruptly. I plan to make the next chapter Wendy's POV **

(SPOV)

I can remember the first time Kyle got sick. Really sick, I mean. We were in the second grade and Kyle's blood sugar was low. He was pretty drowsy that day but I just figured he didn't get that much sleep that night. Of course I was very off on my assessment.

Kyle passed out that day at recess. We were by the monkey bars and he just fell over, as simple as that. I stared for a moment at his motionless body before bending down to check him. I shook him and repeated his name, and when he didn't answer, I felt my heart speed up.

_He can't be asleep. His eyes are still partly open_, I thought. After that I remember everything in a blur.

I dashed to get the teacher and she ran out. She checked him quickly then ran back in and called Kyle's mom and 911.

Ever since then when Kyle got sick I got worried. I used to ignore his minor illnesses, like colds where he was congested and coughing though. But then one day in seventh grade his cold morphed into a fever and he was stuck in bed for a week.

When I visited him it was just briefly. He looked horrible. Kyle was pale, he was almost always sleeping when I came, and he threw up a lot. He didn't even sound like Kyle. In my mind I don't even know if I considered him my best friend then; he was just too different.

I don't want to feel like his parent on anything, but Kyle gets sick a lot. I can't help but freak out at the slightest thing knowing his track record with health.

He's my super best friend. I don't want him to die until I do. It's as simple as that.

At the rate Kyle goes I might not get to see him as long as I wish.

I started dating Wendy again last year and Kyle seemed fine with it. He never complained and listened to whatever I told him. I bragged and he would smile making a few dirty jokes about Wendy and me. When I would complain he would smile as gently as possible and try and give me advice. Since he'd only been out with Rebecca before for a year he didn't have that much advice to give me. I'd been on and off with Wendy since the third grade so he would always question how I really felt about her.

I recalled one time where I yelled at him over said topic. He hit too close to home and I punched him in the jaw on impulse. Of course when he landed on his back on my carpet we both just stared shocked that I had actually hit him. The clearest memory of that day was Kyle on my bedroom floor holding his face with one hand. He looked so shocked; it was like he didn't even know who I was.

I couldn't apologize even though I wanted to. My voice wasn't exactly working perfectly after registering I had hit my best friend in the face over a girl who dumped me a week previous. He merely picked himself off the floor, grabbed his bag, and mumbled an apology before leaving.

I had a nightmare that night. Kyle was killed by a car on the way home from my house. The image was so clear I woke up yelling with the picture of a bloody, dazed Kyle still fresh in my mind. I could remember the expression on his face to the smallest bead of sweat.

I almost questioned what he was thinking about before being hit. Was he thinking of me when the car plowed into him? If so, was it badly of me? I had just decked him and not even apologized.

How would I feel dying with the thought that my best friend hated me?

Immediately I called Kyle half hysterically. It didn't even occur to me that it was four in the morning and Kyle was sound asleep. He accepted my apology almost immediately. I think he knew what I was going to say before I said it.

"It's alright. You didn't mean it," he had told me with a yawn once he heard me on the receiver. I never hit him seriously again.

The image of Kyle from my dream is still crystal clear. I can't seem to scrape it away.

Even now I wonder about Kyle's opinion of Wendy. He never outright told me how he felt about her. I knew he made a lot of jokes but he never seemed to be serious anymore when we talked about her. He always avoided the questions I asked. I still think me hitting him four years ago was influencing him on being able to tell me certain things.

I broke our connection and am still in the process of fixing it.

When Kyle didn't show up at the bus stop I tried to make up an excuse. I must have come up with a million reasons by the time we arrived at school. Wendy was talking to me about Bebe when she realized Kyle wasn't on the bus.

"Where's Kyle?" she asks looking around finally noticing the absence of orange and green that was usually hovering nearby. "Isn't he usually behind us? It's awfully quiet," she mentions looking over the seat at some random kid behind us.

As if I needed reminding.

"I don't know. He'll probably be there when school starts. Kyle's never late," I say cheerfully. He was never late…unless something was wrong with him.

The bus pulled into the school parking lot with a screech. We really needed to get a new bus. Wendy and I let the majority off before we decided to depart. She gave me a quick kiss before heading to Calculus. I headed towards the science building hoping Kyle would be in History next period.

He was. Physically he was in the classroom I'd like to say, but I wasn't so sure mentally. I watched from my spot at my desk as he trudged into the classroom, his feet dragging on the ground behind him. He looked really tired and I noticed he had two water bottles with him.

"Dude," I say immediately when his butt hit his seat. "What the hell? You look like crap."

He looks up at me and smiles weakly.

"Bad night of sleep. I think I'm catching a—" he stops abruptly. Changing his wording he starts again. "I had some bad nightmares last night. No big deal. I'm just tired," he smiles again as if to reassure me.

"Nightmares? What kind of nightmares?"

Dropping his backpack lazily on the side of his desk he yawns and shrugs. "This and that. Typical nightmares."

"Boogieman?" I joke. He shook his head and chuckles.

"I'm not that immature. The boogieman doesn't scare me anymore."

I raise an eyebrow. "Well then what kind of nightmares?"

He sighs and I guess he didn't realize that it was a rude habit I hated when I persisted. I hated when people sighed in a conversation. To me it indicated they weren't interested in talking anymore but weren't willing to politely say it.

"I'm serious!" I complain. He used to tell me all his dreams the morning before school as childish that sounded. Hell, I did the same. Still missed it.

"Nothing, dude."

I gave him a once over before asking. "You're not leaving something important out, are you?"

Kyle blinks a few times before answering. "No. It's no big deal. Can't a guy have a crappy night of sleep every now and then?"

"Not if he's _you_. There's always something when you—"

"—can't get to sleep," he cuts me off. "I know, I know. It's not because of the football game, it's not because I'm sick, and it's not because something happened to me on the way home yesterday. It's just nightmares."

I hesitate. "Fine, I'll leave you alone then," I snap and turn back around. I only had to count to ten before I hear him sigh again and apologize for snapping at me.

"Apology accepted," I grin and turn back around. "Hey, I'm free after school today. Want to hang out, just us?" His eyes spark some life into them and he nods enthusiastically. It's been a while since we both had hung out.

"Where do you want to go?" I ask.

He thinks for a moment before answering me with a smile. "Starks Pond."

"Fine," I whine. "Can't think of something more creative?"

"Nope," he grins and I couldn't help but grin back too. Just then the bell rang and our attention changed to the teacher.

Mr. Walker; he was an interesting outcome of a possible future for his students. Living alone with his dog, Jasper, he had no significant other. His only living relatives were his father who lived in Illinois and his cousin who had been in the hospital since she had been diagnosed with cancer. He was balding but somehow thought the comb over could cover up his absence of hair. With an unfortunate abdomen structure the only thing going for him was his abnormally muscular arms.

In short, he was the reason I kept eating well and socializing. Nothing better than motivation.

"Today we're going to watch a movie about Lincoln's Reconstruction plans. Take it easy for a day while I start grading your tests," he mumbles in a congested voice. "I expect notes though; you're not in elementary school."

With that said he popped the movie in and shut all the lights off. How could we take notes if we couldn't see anything? Jeez, you'd think he would know that by now. He wasn't in elementary school either.

I took out a piece of binder paper and blindly searched for a pen until my eyes could adjust to the light change. When it did I was able to start taking notes. I stared intently at the movie for fifteen minutes but couldn't absorb anything. History wasn't my strong suit.

"Kyle," I turn around and whisper finally fed up with the video. "What did you write for—" I stop abruptly. Kyle was sleeping, his face propped in his palm, his elbow supporting the weight. He must have been tired to sleep during class.

"Hey," I prod him with the bottom of my pen. "Wake up Mr. A+ student. You're missing out on a chance to get some extra points."

_Another poke should do it, _I think with a chuckle but when I went to poke his forehead my arm slipped and I ended up jabbing him in the eye. Immediately his other eye opened shockingly quick and he shot up with a suppressed yell. I sat motionless as I watched my friend grip his eye and look at me in shock at the damage I had done.

"What, dude?" he grit out in a hoarse whisper.

I shift and scratch my neck. "Never mind. It wasn't important."

"Important enough to poke me in the eye," he motioned and tried blinking slowly before glancing around the classroom.

"It was just a question about the notes."

After testing out his damaged eye he focused his attention back on me. "I haven't been taking notes, sorry." I felt like scolding him for apologizing for such a dumb reason but I felt bad for waking him up; he looked really tired. I guess not too long after I came to that conclusion Kyle's forehead crinkled up.

"What?" he asks cautiously before being shushed by Mr. Walker. He hunched down with half-lidded eyes and asked again in a whisper, "What?"

I bit my lip before reluctantly deciding to ask. "You sure you don't want to tell me what's wrong?"

I notice his shoulders slouch and knew he wasn't happy I was being a Mother Goose. "I'm fine." He spoke as clear as possible and I could see the defensiveness start to flare back in his eyes. He was hiding something from me and I didn't like it; it was just like him to put the world on his shoulders.

"Fine," I say as nonchalantly as I could before turning back around to the video. As hard as I tried I could not concentrate and the noise of Kyle's snores didn't help one bit.

ABCDEFGHIJKLMN

It was an accident when I blabbed to Wendy that Kyle and I were going to Starks Pond after school. It was an accident when Wendy asked to come and I said yes before it fully processed in my mind. It was an accident when Kenny overheard and blabbed to Kyle. But when I saw the anger in Kyle's eyes I knew it was my fault completely, any delusion that I wasn't to blame was obliterated.

"This is going to be so fun," Wendy chimes and did a death grip on my arm as we headed out of the school parking lot. I glance over my shoulder at Kyle who was three paces behind us. I had a feeling he was doing that intentionally.

"Should be," I smile down at her awkwardly and try to ignore the knot developing in my stomach. I regret not inviting Clyde or Token to lighten the mood. Hell, even Cartman would do. Anything to get Kyle's annoyance off of me and focused onto someone else. "Right, Kyle?" I ask cheerfully trying to lighten the mood.

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" he asks casually but never meets me in the eye. "Watch out though, Wendy. The banks are very slippery. Stan wouldn't want you falling in and catching a cold now would he?" I glare over my shoulder recognizing the bite in his tone.

_Don't you dare, Kyle_, my eyes burn back into his that seemed to be smiling as if to say "What ever do you mean?"

"Don't worry, Kyle. I'm very coordinated. I don't plan on falling into the pond," says Wendy smiling up at me. "Besides I'm sure Stan would catch me."

"Probably," I hear him dully mutter in lost interest.

When the pond finally came into view I glance back over my shoulder to say something to Kyle when the words stick on my tongue. He wasn't there. I felt my pulse speed up a little and guilt drip from my very core at the thought of Kyle feeling like a third wheel and leaving; not to mention it would be my fault in not even noticing he was gone.

I turn back to Wendy quickly to tell her Kyle wasn't behind us when I saw he was right beside her starting up a casual conversation. When I saw him smile at something Wendy said I relaxed not even caring he didn't bother to glance at me. At least they were getting along now.

We got to Kyle and my favorite spot under a large oak tree when the brisk cold air that hovered around the pond hit us. Kyle pulled his jacket collar up and Wendy tightened her scarf.

I had thrown a snowball at Wendy before they noticed my playful smirk. She turned around in a shocked stupor looking at me as if I was crazy. Kyle chuckled turning her attention to him. He made a motion around his face with his finger before saying, "You got a little something…"

She patted down her head before scooping up a large wad of snow and rocketing it at me. It hit me square in the forehead making me lose balance and fall on my ass. I had forgotten what an arm she had; not since the last time she beat up Cartman in fourth grade.

I wiped the snow out of my face and expected a red spot when I heard Kyle's laughter silenced by getting a snowball smudged in his face. He backed up immediately and coughed getting the slush out of his mouth and nose before glaring at Wendy. She laughed in turn until I grabbed her under the armpits surprising her.

"Get her, Kyle!"

"What? Wait!" Wendy yelled struggling.

Kyle bent over and scooped the largest ball of snow I'd ever seen. With a grin that could rival the Cheshire cat he sniggered, "With pleasure."

It was then I knew he was going to have a fun time today; with or without Wendy.


	4. Not Alright WPOV

(WPOV)

I had always liked Stan; honestly I did. I knew that we occasionally broke up…Alright; we tended to break it off every other month. But I had come to terms with my feelings and truly believed we were right for each other. Ever since the end of sophomore year we had been going out and continued to see each other seriously even up to halfway through junior year.

The only real problem that seemed to put a gap between us and made a nervous knot tie in my stomach was a skinny stick of a boy with a red, curly Jew fro. In short he was Stan's _super _best friend since preschool. I frankly didn't see any way I could compete…

Not to mention Kyle Broflovski didn't take too kindly to me. I mean, at first we got along, he liked talking to someone on par with his intelligence and he figured I made Stan happy so he was happy. Unfortunately when I wasn't sure of the security of Stan and my relationship Kyle began to dislike me.

I had made Stan depressed and angry so many times I guess Kyle saw me as a threat and did his best friend no good. I suppose I deserved that but that was all in the past; I was serious now.

Too bad Kyle doesn't believe me.

I never hated Kyle; I still don't hate him. But we do not get along. He doesn't like me because I have done some damage to his and Stan's relationship with what he calls my "_mind games_" that I pulled on him. I don't get along with him because I am jealous; utterly, stupidly jealous.

Kyle has a better relationship with Stan then I do and I envy it. It makes me impulsively pull closer to Stan and say things that I sometimes regret when Kyle is around. That might be another reason why Kyle doesn't like me…

But despite our rocky relationship I am going to try and befriend him if it is the last thing I do. Maybe that was why I decided to come along with Stan and Kyle to Starks Pond. I knew the moment when the question slipped out his lips he regretted it. The horror of what he had said was etched on his face, as miniscule as it was. I knew and yet I still said yes knowing Kyle would be mad. I just figured it was a good way to lighten the mood between us. And judging by the exhausted smirk on his face I was assuming I had done a good job.

"Sorry Stan," I mumble with a chuckle seeing him flat against the snow covered ground with the slush coating his jacket and head.

"It's no big deal," he manages to groan lightly trying to sit up. "I figured my best friend and girlfriend would team up against _me _anyway," he finishes sarcastically.

"Hey dude, she's got an arm," Kyle cuts in with a smile. "Better than yours. I had no choice."

"Yeah, no choice…" Stan mutters before standing up nearly losing his balance and patting off the snow. I stick my hand out and he gently pulls me to my feet and kisses my forehead. Somewhere off in the back of my head I think about what Kyle thought of our public displays of affection. I know it's wrong to think that when my boyfriend is kissing me but it isn't in a romantic sense so I don't press further.

I glance from the corner of my eye to see Kyle still sitting half-crouched on the ground. He has a glazed look in his eyes and it makes my brow furrow. Lately I have been noticing small things with him that I never noticed before. He seemed off and I wanted to ask about it but never did because Stan was a worry wart. If he didn't think Kyle was sick then he wasn't so I left it at that.

It doesn't stop me from sending out hints here and there but it is never appreciated. Kyle always got defensive and Stan never liked me joking about Kyle being sick. As horrible as it seems I am also jealous when Kyle gets sick; Stan never freaks out when I get sick…

"Come on. Get up, Kyle," Stan says cheerfully and snaps Kyle out of his daze. He stretches out his gloved hand and Kyle blinks curiously at it.

With a shaky hand and an uneasy smile he sticks his hand in Stan's and is pulled quickly to his feet. There is a distinct discomfort on his face but it fades as quickly as it had formed. "Thanks dude," he smiles but I see him holding something back.

I guess he notices because he looks up at me over Stan's shoulder and I have to look away quickly. _What's wrong with you, Wendy? Do you always have to analyze him? Nothing's wrong so stop freaking him out by staring at him, _I think and try to start a subject before Kyle or Stan give me that look again.

"Are you hungry?" I blurt and pull my scarf tighter. Kyle and Stan just stand a little confused and glance at each other. "Either of you," I clarify.

"Now that you mention it," Stan drifts off and pats his stomach.

"We should go get something to eat," I chime and clap my hands together. "What do you think Stan?"

He smiles. "Sounds good."

"Kyle?" I ask as sweet as I can. His face scrunches up and he looks off to the side scratching the back of his head.

"Actually I'm not that hungry—" he is cut off when Stan pats his stomach and laughs.

"Come on, Kyle! You've been on a diet I noticed for a while. Eat something; like you need to get any skinnier."

I see the unease plaster itself on Kyle's face at the thought of food. He glances up at me and when our eyes meet I see some sort of defiance in them. With that he brushes by Stan and me and starts heading back into town.

"Something light though," he says loudly over his shoulder motioning for us to follow. I get that suspicious feeling in my gut again and try to ignore it as hard as I can. Taking Stan's hand I put a smile on my face and pretend like nothing is wrong again for the millionth time this month.

Even though Kyle had said something light Stan had taken us to a restaurant that served Sloppy Joes, burgers, and pizzas; awful foods for Kyle's apparent stomach ache. The repulsion drips from his very being upon gazing down at the menu. I feel a little bad for him myself but if he insists that he is alright then he could eat these foods.

"Are you alright, Kyle?" I ask again in concern. His eyes slowly pull up to mine lazily and then glance at Stan who is reading his menu. "You sure you can eat this?"

"Oh yeah; no problem," he says unconvincingly and lets out a deep breath.

"Because you can always go home," I suggest out of the good of my heart. I never intended it to be interpreted any other way then concern for his stomach. The irritation in his eyes tells me that he thought I was trying to get rid of him. _Oh great._

"I said it was no problem. Thanks for caring though, Wendy," he smiles at me and goes back to focusing on the food. When our waiter comes up and it is time to order I can't help but smirk inside when Kyle regrettably orders the meatball sub. If he is going to carry on with his game I won't interfere. Even the waiter seemed to feel disbelieving and asked him if he was sure.

He was.

The food came and I start to pick at the salad I had gotten. Kyle looks at it in disbelief apparently not flipping to the last page to see the _lighter _foods. His sub is placed in front of him and he recoils at just the smell of it.

"Dude, that isn't exactly what would consider light," Stan mentions taking a bite of his combination pizza slice.

Kyle attempts to straighten but only succeeds on the second try. "Well you know me. I change my mind a lot." As if to prove himself he reaches down and picks up the sandwich. I see his fingers shake ever so slightly before he takes the biggest bite I have ever seen.

I blink a little confused as his face remains calm and he continues eating. Maybe I was reading too much into him…

Stan starts up a conversation about something Kenny did in the hall the other day and we all seem to enjoy it. That is until about halfway through the story and halfway through the sub Kyle starts to look uneasy again. Stan doesn't notice until he finishes and starts talking about another one of his dad's stupid antics.

"Ky?" Stan asks breaking off from his story. I note the bewildered look drifting into his eyes. "Something wrong?"

Kyle merely shakes his head and a slow smile creeps across his face. It takes him a moment to speak; almost as if words were stuck in his throat. "No. I just need to use the bathroom." He speaks slow and smooth before taking his time to climb out of the booth and meanders towards the restroom.

When he is out of sight I see Stan glancing around and tapping his finger against the table. I gently grab his arm making him look at me. "I'm sure he's fine," I reassure him. In turn he slowly glares at me.

"Who said he wasn't?"

I bite my lip to hold back a snide remark at his snapping at me and smile. "No one."

"You implied something, though," he chides and places his chin in his palm. I feel jealousy start climbing its way up my limbs and filling my head with hot air. I try to suppress it and keep cool.

"No, you're about to freak out over nothing again."

His brow unwrinkles and he shoots me a guilty look. "Am not," he finally speaks with defeat in his voice. I smile and pat his hand.

"You know with the way you act sometimes I could swear you were his mother in a past life or something." I don't think he likes that comment and tries to scoot away from me but I just giggle and keep a firm grip on his hand.

Stan may have calmed down easily but after Kyle being gone for five minutes Stan's fingers went crazy on the table; it sounded like he was teaching them to tap dance. Finally fed up I sigh and say, "Do you want me to check on him?" He notices the bite in my tone and immediately stops the dance session.

"No, no. I'll check on him. Don't worry about it," he suggests and tries to scoot past me but I push him back with an irritated huff, obviously not liking to be ignored by my own boyfriend.

"Don't get up. I'll do it," I say and get out of the booth. He raises his eye brows.

"It's a boy's restroom."

I blankly stare at him and turn for the restrooms. "So I'll knock," I say over my shoulder. I go down the short dark hallway towards the restrooms and rub the back of my neck. Standing outside the restroom, my hand hovering over the door ready to knock. "He probably has explosive diarrhea or something."

"Who has diarrhea?" asks a hoarse voice; the kind someone gets when first waking up.

I jump so high I could swear my head nearly hit the ceiling. Gripping my heart I glance behind me to see Kyle leaning against the water fountain. "Fuck, Kyle," I breathe and feel my pulse falling back into rhythm. Getting a better look at him I frown. "_Fuck_, Kyle," I mumble sympathy filling me. He looks like shit and I could tell he was using the fountain for balance. His face is sweaty and slightly blotchy. "Did you throw up or something? I told you not to eat that sub…"

He waves me off with lazy movements and leans his head against the cool wall. "Just hanging out."

I raise my eyebrow mimicking Stan when he's puzzled. "Outside the men's room?"

His head lolls in my direction. "Perfect place to meet girls. Look, I got you back here," he smiles sarcastically and I roll my eyes.

"Stan's having a hissy fit. You should hurry up and get back there soon or he might pop a blood vessel," I wave my arms around for emphasis. Kyle looks down a little. I'm sure if he is annoyed or just feels guilty. Either way I don't have time to notice long because soon his torso crumbles over.

"Shit!" I panic and catch his shoulders. "Kyle I think you should really go home," I say seriously concerned. He looks up at me through the tangle of bangs and the hem of his hat and blinks bewildered.

"Home?"

I nod not sure what else to say. _That sub really did a number on him,_ I think suddenly at fault in letting him eat something so bad when he has a stomach ache. My mind pauses as I examine his face closer. _No…I don't think it was only the sub._

Kyle breathes out heavy through his nostrils before attempting to stand up straight. I try to steady him but he forces himself to stand straight by himself. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea, Wendy. I didn't get much sleep last night so I should—should take a nap," he says a little unsure of himself and wipes his face with his hand. I stand feeling a little helpless not knowing what to think. Is he okay or isn't he?

On impulse I reach out and take his free hand in mine. He stops rubbing his eyes to look down where we are connected, later glancing at my face. "Are—" I stutter now having his full attention and not knowing how he will react," are you sure you're alright?"

He takes a few filtered breaths and smiles surprising me. "No."

The next thing I know there is red dribbling down like a river.

**A/N: Um…Review Please. I hope you liked it because I'm not so sure I did. Might be my last update on this for a while.**


	5. Promises KPOV

(KPOV)

It probably wasn't a good idea to nearly pass out by the boy's restroom with Wendy. I didn't have much of a choice though. In my defense I was a bit delusional from the stress on my gut so my mind wasn't functioning properly. In any case I wasn't responsible for my actions at that very moment.

Despite the fog of pain clouding my mind I kept one thing in mind: _Don't you dare lose full consciousness. _

If I did everything surely would end badly. Wendy would go crying to Stan who in turn would freak out and call an ambulance. I would go to a hospital and my parents would come in crying and fretting over how I could hide something so serious from them. The bill would most likely be very large and due to our financial difficulties recently Ike wouldn't be able to go on his fieldtrip.

Stan wouldn't be able to trust me anymore when I told him I was fine. My parents would monitor me all the time. Ike would try and be supportive but he would always have that feeling of resentment in the pit of his stomach because I got to go to the Statue of Liberty but stole his chance because of my bad immune system.

All in all it would fuck up my life and mess everything else up. Wendy was my biggest concern at the moment. Didn't you notice it all started because Wendy cried to Stan?

Everything was black but I could still feel Wendy's hands squeezing my shoulders. Her shrill voice echoed in my head like a bat in a cave and was driving me crazy because I couldn't make out everything she was saying.

There was a hint of panic and I feel bad for a moment for putting her in this situation. "Kyle!...God what is…You're going to…blood…hold on…" It seemed to be going like how I predicted and I was fine with what I could make out till my mind snags on one particle of the mixture of sentences. "I'm getting Stan!"

As I feel the pressure start to leave my shoulders I make a blind attempt to grab onto her; to keep her here. I meant to grab her arm or something but I ended up grabbing her chin in a vice grip and keeping her level with me. She makes a surprised gasp and I open my eyes seeing her blurry outline, her eyes having a wild look to them.

"Don't. You. Do. It. _Wendy_," is all I could grit out at the moment. She looks confused and I slowly wipe the small trail of blood from my lip before it dribbles off my chin.

"But Kyle—" she starts and turns her head toward the exit when I jerk it back closer to my face. I glare hoping to get the message out.

"Please." I didn't want to make it sound desperate but when my throat closed halfway through the word I admit it sounded like I was going to cry. I wasn't.

From what I was able to see, Wendy's face softened and her eyes started glancing around. If she was anything like me, and unfortunately she was, her mind was playing out different scenarios and trying to predict the consequences of each.

"What do you want me to do then?" she asks and I would have chuckled at the defeat in her voice were it not for the chasm of pain tearing me apart at the moment.

"I just need to get home. I've been taking pills that help a lot. I need some of those. I'll take a nap too. Just—resting is what makes it go away for a while."

"A while? How long has this been going on? Never mind. More importantly how am I supposed to do that without Stan knowing, Kyle?" she glares and swats my hand away from her face. Her hands return to my chest pushing me back against the wall. I hate her hands on me and try to push them away but she persists. "Stop. I'm serious, Kyle," she argues in a harsh whisper. "You can't leave without Stan seeing."

"Stop touching me!" I growl as best I could and she loosens her hold not willing to completely comply with my demand. I breathe a couple of deep breaths and shut my eyes. "Get him out of here then. Make up an excuse."

Her eyes bug. "But what about you? I can't leave you alone like this!"

"Shh!" I glower and attempt to pry her hands away again. It results in her calling me immature and pushing my hands away again. "It's not like this is the first time I've felt this. It comes in waves and goes away."

She doesn't look convinced and I could see her fooling with her cell phone in her pocket. That makes me nervous like no tomorrow.

"I can't. I don't know what to say to him. He's always so—"

"Can you do it for me or not, Wendy?" I was getting fed up. If she wasn't going to do it soon then I was just going to shimmy myself out the boy's bathroom window without her help. That was the plan anyway. I couldn't take much more of standing here.

Eventually she agrees in the end and trots quickly down the hall out of sight. With her gone I have a fifty-fifty chance Stan would believe her or come down here to check on me.

As fast as I can I make my way into the bathroom and groan when I see how high the window is. Getting my foot up on the sink and grabbing the seal of the window I manage to pull myself up and support my midsection. As fate would have it though I lost my balance and fall flat on my back on the oh-so-soft concrete.

I don't know how long I was there but it was enough for the sun to be mostly out of the sky and for Wendy to call my cell phone. I feel the buzzing in my pocket and slowly pull it out and answer. "Hello?"

"Kyle where the hell are you?! I stopped by your house after telling Stan you had explosive diarrhea but you weren't there. Where are you?" She has panic in her voice again and I mentally face-palm.

_Explosive diarrhea? Wendy…_I mentally groan. That was the worst excuse on the planet.

"Kyle? Are you there? Kyle?"

"Yeah. I'm still at the restaurant," I admit reluctantly.

"What?!" she explodes. I wince.

"I fell. I'll go home soon."

"No—stay there. I'm coming to get you."

I wince again. That was the last thing I wanted. "Wendy, it's—" I don't have time to finish because she already hung up on me. This day was going perfectly.

I check the time on my phone before shoving it in my pocket. Only seventy minutes ago I was eating lunch with Stan and Wendy and now I was lying in a miserable pile on the cement outside the boy's bathroom.

My stomach churns as I wait for Wendy. It wasn't like I had much energy to just pull myself up and trot home but I wasn't exactly wanting Wendy's help either. _Why couldn't someone like Kenny or Token have found out? _I think and scoot myself up against the building.

Propping my elbows against my knees I tuck my face between them to get some air circulating when I hear the pitter patter of Wendy's shoes.

"Are you okay?" she asks as calmly as possible and places her hand on my shoulder. "You're shortening my life by scaring me like this you know, Kyle," she laughs humorlessly when I meet her gaze.

"Where are the reinforcements?" I ask blandly and she rolls her eyes trying to lift me up.

"This is all you get _remember_? You requested that I didn't tell Stan." Her arm loops under one of mine and tries to make it seem like she's supporting a leg injury I have.

"Not just Stan; everybody," I clarify and pretend to limp as if I have sprained my ankle. No one would question a girl supporting me if it was from an athletic injury. It would seem less wimpy that way.

Wendy twitches for an instant and I stop mid-step. "What?" My heartbeat starts to speed up. I turn halfway towards her with a concerned expression. "Wendy you didn't tell anyone else, did you?"

Her finger twitches against my side and I stare at her in disbelief. "Wendy!"

"I didn't, okay!" she shouts back and starts dragging me along the sidewalk whether I wanted to go or not. There was a hint of anger in her voice that I've never heard directed at me before. "I didn't tell. I wanted to but I didn't do it. You're stupid for not letting me tell." The fire in her eyes hits me full force and I feel somewhat inferior for a moment. "Why won't you let me help you Kyle?"

"I am letting you help me. What do you think this is about?" I gesture to her supporting me.

She shakes her head and slows down as we get closer to my house. "This isn't helping how I want to. This is helping you deceive your family and your best friend." She tries to play the guilt card and I try not to let it get to me.

As my house comes into view I not so gently remove her arm and stand as straight as possible. She looks at me curiously as I try and portray a stronger person than what I really am. "Listen. I appreciate you helping me out from the restaurant and not telling Stan and my parents." I pause considering for a second. "Especially Stan. But from now on I don't want you helping me." She attempts to protest but I shoot up my hand to stop her and look sternly at her. "I mean it. Don't act any different at school or anywhere else. No one else can know. Promise me."

She glances to the side in irritation but says nothing. "Promise me Wendy."

After a long pause she grumbles, "Fine," and I sigh in relief. The next thing I know her finger is in my face. "For now. You better get better and fast, Kyle, or I'm going to have to tell someone. Don't over-exert yourself. You promise me."

I gently knock her finger away and turn to head home smiling as polite as possible. "Sure thing." As I walk towards my house I don't hear Wendy move an inch, her watching me all the way till I lock the door.

OPQRSTUVWXYZ

School was a bitch the next week. My stomach had calmed down and I was getting normal amounts of sleep and food again but that didn't stop my suspicions. I felt paranoid all the time. If anybody treated me differently my heart would speed up like a race car and I would think Wendy went back on her word.

By Friday I felt just as bad as the previous week when Wendy found out my secret. My nerves were fried and I think it showed.

"Bags, dude."

I look up from my book questioningly. "Huh?"

Craig and Stan are staring at me standing in front of the bench I was on. "You've got some pretty nasty bags under your eyes today, Kyle," Craig says casually, almost bored.

I roll my eyes and turn the page to distract myself. Hell I wasn't even reading the book anyway. "Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious."

He flips me off; typical. Stan fidgets with the Gatorade in his hands. "Seriously. What's up with you lately?" Stan asks.

I remain calm not even looking at him. "What do you mean?"

"Do you have a stomach bug or something? Wendy told me about your, um, bathroom situation and you've been pretty shitty since we went to the pond."

I ignore the light coat of unease in his voice. I give in, "Maybe," I admit. "That snow was pretty filthy."

His eyes bug for a split second. "You're sick?"

I shrug and the butterflies start to flutter. "Could be, or it could be the butt load of tests I have coming up."

"Well which is it?" Craig asks in his nasally voice and I flip two more pages.

"Probably a cold and late night studying mixed together. Don't worry I'll remember to take good care of myself," I reassure looking at Stan making him frown at me. "I can see it on your face dude," I chuckle.

"Hey I can't help it when you nearly die every time you get the flu," he growls in embarrassment. Craig rolls his eyes and punches Stan's arm.

"You're gay." Stan whacks him back.

"This isn't the flu. I'd tell you if it was serious." I feel a pang in my chest. Stupid guilt.

He brushes that off. "Uh-huh. You better or I swear I'll kill you myself." He laughs uneasily and I smile and shake my head. His eyes light up behind the worry and it catches my attention. "Oh! Wendy and I are going to the movies tonight and she was asking if you wanted to come."

My smile falls being replaced with my same bitter expression when Wendy enters a conversation. She'd been inviting me to everything since that day after the pond. It was like she was checking up on me.

"Um, I think I'm actually busy tonight. A lot of studying to do, y'know?" I say and shift in the bench.

"It won't be awkward like last time, I promise! Craig and Kenny are coming too. Come on, you need to relax a little and forget about school."

He plays the stupid puppy dog eye move at me and I wince. Well as long as it wasn't just the three of us I could probably deal. "Alright," I agree reluctantly. He brightens immediately.

"Great. She'll be really excited I know it."

I focus down at my book again and mumble, "Oh I'm sure she will."

**A/N: Sorry, another abrupt cut off. But at least it's an update. Please Review I'd appreciated it**


	6. Terrible Liar KPOV

(KPOV)

In all honesty I don't know why I agreed to go to the movies with Stan and the gang. I am in no mood to be _hittin' the town _today. I actually intended to go straight home and try to take a nap, maybe watch some Simpsons or something. Looking in the mirror as I zip up my jacket I sigh and shake my head knowing those plans were cut to a bitter halt.

I walk down stairs and go into the kitchen to get a Capri Sun and see my mom fixing dinner. She looks up at me for a second before turning her attention back to the vegetables she is frying. "Hey Bubbe. You going out tonight?"

I shut the fridge. "Yeah. Stan and a few guys are going to the movies so I said I'd go." I shrug and casually pop the straw into the pouch. The smell of the vegetables burns my eyes so I step back and lean against the fridge.

"Oh, that's good. Is his little girlfriend going too? They're so adorable, always stuck to each other. When can I see you like that around the house?" She starts going off on her own little tangent and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah Wendy'll be there. She always is," I say but mutter the last part. The last thing I need is for her to interrogate me on why I don't like my best friend's girlfriend.

"That's good," she says and pours more oil into the pan. "What movie are you seeing?"

"Hell if I know." The pouch is empty so I throw it away.

"How late will you be out?"

"I don't know," I get ready to leave.

"Is Stan picking you up?"

"I don't think so. No car remember?"

She stops stirring and looks directly at me. _Damn, I almost got away_, I think.

"Well what _do_ you know?"

I look up and transfer my weight to my other foot. "I won't be out too late I promise," I admit reluctantly because I know that's mainly what she's after. She smiles.

"No later than eleven or I'm calling the police. Have a good time."

I believe her too. She's done it before.

ABCDEFGHIJKLMN

As I get to the theatre I see everyone huddled by a wall at the entrance. The closer I get to them and the ticket booth the slower I walk. The looks on their faces make my knees shake for a moment. Stan and Kenny look antsy and slightly irritated; Stan trying not to let it show more than Kenny. Wendy looks disappointed and tired whereas Craig just looks full blown angry.

Shit. I pull out my cell phone; oh jeez. Eight messages. I take a deep breath and wave. "Hey guys."

Stan starts to open his mouth to say something when Craig goes off like a firecracker. "Where the fuck were you?! We've been freezing our asses out here!" I recoil from him and his infamous temper.

"What do you mean? I thought the movie started at seven thirty." His nostrils flare and I bite the inside of my cheek. I guess not.

"No it started at seven. We've been standing out here in the cold for thirty fucking minutes you asshole!" Stan sighs and grabs Craig's shoulder holding him back.

Calmly Stan asks, "Didn't you get our messages?"

Feeling guilty I look off to the side and grip my phone in my pocket. "It was on silent…" Craig scoffs and I hold back the urge to sock him.

"Oh. Okay…That makes sense I guess. I thought you checked your phone more but I guess I could've been wrong about that," Stan scratches the back of his head awkwardly and a small light of anger starts building in my stomach.

"Well if you guys really wanted to see that movie you could've just went." Craig mumbles 'that's what I said' and I ignore it.

Stan glances at Kenny and Wendy who don't seem to want to get in and gang up on me. "No, it's fine. It's no big deal."

His nonchalant attitude bugs me. "Dude it's not fine. You guys stood in the snow and missed your movie. It really wouldn't have bugged me. I didn't want to see it anyway." His eyes downcast suddenly and I want to kick myself.

"You didn't? Then why'd you agree to come?" He's trying to figure me out; figure out what's been going on in this big, stupid head of mine.

I glance to the side and meet Wendy's eyes a moment but look away before Stan can notice. At the risk of sounding lame I patch up the fight with a cheesy line that I know will make Stan content. "I just wanted to spend some time with you that's all."

I'm afraid to look directly at the joy that starts to radiate off his face. He slowly smiles as big as the Cheshire cat. "Really?" he asks and my face heats up in embarrassment. I already said it once I didn't want to do it again with everyone watching.

I nod quickly and stuff my hands in my pockets. The next thing I know his arm links over my shoulders and pulls me down in a half-hug. Stan, feeling like I've been neglecting him and appreciating the kind words I just gave him, tries to soften the situation.

"It's not that big of a deal, right guys? We can always catch a different movie; it's not going anywhere." He tries to convince everyone and I really wish I were at home counting the cracks in the ceiling right now.

Wendy immediately jumps on board. "I don't mind watching another movie." At the silence she elbows Kenny in the ribs.

"Me either," he groans and gives me a weak thumbs up.

Everybody looks at Craig who looks taken back like everyone turned on him. He stands in the light of the movie theatre glaring at us confused.

"What?"

"Come on, dude," Stan coaxes. Craig looks from Kenny to Wendy so see if they'd back him up but sees the defiance in their stances.

He lets out a shout of disapproval. "Fine! Might as well not waste the whole night doing nothing. Just pick a goddamn movie. What are we seeing?"

As luck would have it the only movie available at the time was a romantic comedy. I definitely would rather be counting cracks in the ceiling then here in this theatre. I made sure to have Kenny sit next to me to put a barrier between Craig and I. He looked about ready to murder someone. Unfortunately for me Wendy sat on my left instead of Stan like I thought he would.

All in all the movie is so awkward it is getting hard to sit still. The plot is a typical girl movie and without a date to persuade to make out with when something "cute" happens it's just a waste of ten bucks. I glance over at Craig and Kenny who seem to be falling asleep. I turn to see Wendy and Stan holding hands and seeming to be remotely interested. I sink back in my seat before pulling out my phone below me; only forty-five more minutes of this. I can't make it.

I stand up which immediately pulls their attention off the screen at me.

"Ky?" Stan asks and I smile.

"I have to pee. Be right back," I whisper back and scoot out of the aisle. I make my way out of the dark room and give a breath of relief when alone in the lobby. It's pretty quiet and I take a seat on a bench a few feet away and rub my face.

I sit and start to doze off when I feel a tap on my shoulder making me shoot up. Directly above me to my dismay is the cause of why I'm at the movies tonight.

Upon seeing Wendy my surprise melts into sour discontentment. "Why aren't you watching the movie?" I ask.

"Why aren't you?" she shoots back at me. I raise an eyebrow.

"Because I'm not into masochism," I reply and sit up. "What kind of guy genuinely wants to see that on his free time?"

"If you didn't want to see it you should've said something," she says disheartened and my eyes widen. I shoot up.

"No Wendy. Don't play the guilt card on me again. I can't take anymore guilt tonight."

Her brow knits and she takes off her gloves and puts them in her pockets. She pauses, thinking. "Then why did you come tonight? I don't get it."

I relax and plaster the same bored expression I get every time I talk to her. "For Stan. We don't hang out anymore and I don't want to bother him. I can sit through a stupid girly movie if he asks but not with you breathing down my neck. What am I supposed to say? That I don't want to hang out with him because I don't like his girlfrie—"I stop when I see the quick flash of hurt zip across her face before realization of what I was saying hits me. I cough uncomfortably and shift my feet unable to look at her. "Never mind. Forget it."

She's quiet a moment before speaking, acting like my basic confession of resentment didn't faze her. "Well staying in the lobby isn't spending time with Stan; it's only making him worry."

"Him?" I ask confused. "I think you're confusing his feelings with yours," I accuse quietly.

She blinks baffled at my statement and sudden attack. She's on defense. "Mine?"

"Yes yours," I snap. "Don't think I didn't notice you analyzing me this whole week since the day we went to the pond. And even before then too. You won't get off my back about it. I'm perfectly fine, Wendy, so stop projecting your feels on Stan and letting him take the blame."

Her jaw drops. She advances and pokes her finger defensively at my chest making me take a step back. "I'm just being a good person and making sure you don't keel over and die. It's not a very smart thing to ignore someone _bleeding internally_. And as for me _projecting _my feelings on Stan, that's a big fat lie. He's been nothing but concerned about you for the past couple of weeks. He talks about it all the time but you're too dense to notice."

I huff and roll my eyes. "You're over reacting."

She grabs hold of my collar and pulls me to her level surprising me to the point of trying to pry her hands off. "Stop telling me how I feel, Kyle!"

"Excuse me!"

We both stop arguing abruptly and turn our heads to see an irritated manager and a small crowd of rubberneckers looking at our public display of disaffection. "Can you two kindly be quiet? If not I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Wendy slowly lets go of my collar and we back away from each other. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize we were making a scene," she apologizes and the manager blows a loud puff of air through his nostrils.

"Sure. Just keep the roar to a minimum, will ya?" With that he walks away leaving Wendy and I to settle our differences. I glance back at her from the corner of my eye and her at me.

In the thick awkward air I don't know where I should put my hands or where I should look. Quietly I turn towards the door. "We should probably get back in there. They should notice we're gone by now."

"Probably," Wendy admits.

"How long have we been out here anyway?" I ask opening the door and get consumed in the darkness.

"Twenty minutes."

"Damn."

OPQRSTUVWXYZ

"That was the longest movie of my life," Kenny slurs dragging his feet from the theatre. Craig follows sluggish behind him sloshing his feet in the snow.

"I'll never get those two hours back," he groans.

"Sorry," I apologize insincerely and catch up with them, Stan and Wendy following a few feet behind me. They glance back at me in synch.

"Oh yeah. It was your fault we watched that movie. I totally forgot," Craig murmurs exhausted and flips me off. I chuckle not minding his old habit.

"They should play that in Kevorkian's office," Kenny jokes.

"I know. Or at the dentist. At least it would make it seem less painful in comparison," Craig gags and shoves me. I shove back and laugh.

"Hey, I thought it was kinda good," Stan disagrees and makes us laugh even harder.

"You would since your girl's right there!" Kenny laughs and throws his arm over Craig's shoulder.

"Yeah. Did your balls fall off or do you just watch shit like that when you paint your toenails every Saturday night?" Craig says making Kenny laugh even harder and start to pull Craig down with his weight. Stan rolls his eyes and Wendy lifts his hand to her lips and kisses it sweetly as a silent thanks for not bashing the movie.

I laugh too and forget for a moment I had been having a horrible night. Everything seems to go back to normal for a second before something doesn't feel right. I feel tunnel vision engulf me and I freeze, the world slowing down for a split second. The raw aching in the pit of my stomach is present once more. I feel a slight shock of panic shoot up my spine and it takes a while before I notice that everyone isn't laughing anymore but rather staring at me.

My eyes dart from face to face and the ache recedes. I keep the uncertainty out of my voice. "W-what?"

"You okay?" I look directly at Kenny, the last person I would suspect of sensing something wrong with me.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" I ask almost hesitantly.

"You just got quiet for some reason."

I breathe a few times and make sure to smile a bit. "Oh. No—I just remembered my mom is gonna kill me if I'm late tonight. I was just thinking what time it is."

"Why don't you check your phone?" Stan inquires.

"What?" I ask and Stan looks at everyone then at me with a faded smile.

"Why didn't you check your phone if you want to know the time?"

I pause and take a second to laugh slightly. "It died in the theatre. Cheap piece of junk, huh?"

He takes a moment before reaching in his pocket. "That's cool. You should have said something then. Don't weird us out," he laughs. "It's only ten fifteen."

"Oh yeah? Sorry," I knock the side of my head awkwardly. "Duh, that makes sense. I really should be leaving though. You know my mom," I say and try to leave when the light sore starts to fill me and gives me a flop sweat; I can feel my bangs moisten despite the cold Colorado air.

"Right now?" Stan asks and I can see the dissatisfaction of my announcement. "You can't stay out a little later?"

Seeing the sincerity on his face to just go back to when we were best buds I want to just ignore any panic I have and dismiss it as stupid paranoia just to hang with him a few more minutes…But then the logical half of my brain takes over and flashes me back to outside the men's room, Wendy carrying me back to my place. I can't. This whole mess with Wendy started because I pushed myself one day and I would just be repeating it again now.

"I can't," I retreat and shake my head ignoring a different pain in my stomach; shame. I was becoming quite accustomed to it lately.

"You sure?" he asks again knowing if he badgers me enough I'd surely give in. No, I must resist!

"I'm one hundred percent," I clarify and smile. He frowns. "Sorry dude. You know my mom can be a total bitch sometimes."

He can't argue there so remains silent. He looks back at Craig and Kenny who seem to be lost in their own conversation dragging an apathetic Wendy in to decide something for them before looking back at me with an optimistic smile. "No problem. We can hang later this weekend."

I open my mouth to reply but end up shutting it and smiling dully. "I can't. Too much homework."

Stan's smile drops in disbelief and I hate making him wear that expression again for the millionth time. He recovers quickly though. "All weekend?"

I take a step back inconspicuously preparing to leave before getting in too deep into the conversation. "Kinda. I have some chores and stuff too. I'm sorry dude." I retreat farther and hate that I have to feel nervous and hide from my friends but now is definitely not a good time to hang out.

"_All _weekend?" There's a slight edge of skepticism seeping into his tone as he pulls his jacket closer. "You can't spare one hour?"

"I'm sorry," I feel tense now. He starts advancing and I have a feeling he's going to make a scene of a different kind then Wendy did in the lobby. I'm about to give in and say I could maybe do something Sunday when Wendy steps in out of the blue to save the day.

"We're going to get pizza. What's the hold up?" she asks linking her arm in Stan's. He looks down at her and his train of thought is shattered. He blinks confused and she looks back at him curiously with a smile. "What's up?" He looks back at me and I stand not sure what to do.

"Um…Yeah. I'm going but Kyle says he needs to get home." Wendy looks up at me and a quick zap of adrenaline hits me like a bullet.

I can tell her eyes are analyzing again. "Oh," is all that comes out of her mouth.

I fidget now wanting to escape more than ever. I should have been halfway home already. "My mom's a right tight ass when it comes to staying out. I said I'd come home right after the movie," I lie.

"Well then what are you bugging him for Stan?" she asks and looks back at him. He's speechless not sure what to argue when Wendy shoots her logic at him. "If he can't go, he can't go."

We get stuck in a staring contest just glancing at each other till a puff of defeated air bursts from Stan's lips. "Alright. Get out of here Kyle. I don't want you getting in trouble because of me. If you're late then you can blame me."

I smile and turn. "Thanks. I really am sorry though." He waves me off and I laugh. I turn and start heading cautiously back down the street leaving them in the bask of the theatre glow.

I nearly make it around the corner when I hear my name called and the sound of footsteps. I stop abruptly and grit my teeth. _Now what?_

It's Wendy. How surprising. I keep my voice low and try not to glare since Stan is staring confused. Wendy's back to him she can look however she wants. "What is it Wendy? Come on."

She huddles deeper in her coat and scarf. "Is it the food? We can always get something cooler if you want."

I look down at her puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"For your stomach. We don't have to eat pizza, really," she clarifies and I blanch.

"It's not my stomach," I lie again and glance up at Stan quickly. Angrily I say, "It's my mom."

She doesn't even raise an eyebrow. "No it's not. What about ice cream? I can put some ibuprofen in it when no one's looking."

I can't help it when I blatantly glare at her now. "It's not my goddamn stomach, Wendy. I'm serious. I already told you this." If everyone hadn't been right there I would have been yelling.

She glares back. "You suck at lying you big baby."

My face heats up in anger and I grit my teeth again. She was going to be the death of me honestly. Before I can say anything else Stan yells out perplexed. "Wendy?"

She doesn't move for a moment before standing directly in front of me and punches me in the gut; hard. The wind gets knocked out of me immediately and it feels as though a car just hit me. She keeps me balanced and smiles. "It doesn't hurt, huh?" She turns around leaving me standing crippled, nearly shaking and prances back to the group. "Coming Stan."

As they start heading the other direction I slowly make my way around the corner before collapsing in a pile of snow against the building. I crumble in on myself and let out a pain-filled whine and try not to cry.

I hold my stomach and ignore the strange stares passerbies are giving me. I try to convince myself I'd be in this much pain if any girl had hit me but apparently Wendy was right about one thing; I am a terrible liar.

**A/N: Hope you liked it. The more reviews the quicker the update haha I just want feedback and opinions.**


	7. Fear WPOV

(WPOV)

For the past few weeks I haven't seen that much of Kyle which by default meant neither did Stan. It felt like he was going out of his way to avoid everyone especially Stan and me. I'm hoping my punch at the movie theatre to prove my point wasn't the cause but I had a feeling it had something to do with it.

Because the break for Christmas started four days ago Stan couldn't use the excuse of school to hang out with Kyle, and Kyle couldn't use the excuse of homework to bail on Stan. It was like a never ending game of tug-a-war; I was rooting for Stan in the end.

Since Kyle felt the need to avoid Stan he spent twice as much time with me. Don't get me wrong I love hanging out with Stan just not when he's complaining every second of the day.

"He can't be busy every day of his fucking life," Stan growls at me after getting off the phone with Kyle. I keep pace with him down the snowy Colorado road and remain quiet watching my boyfriend tense up and glower ahead. It was the holidays; there should be no reason for him to be down.

"Taking another rain check?" I ask already knowing the answer.

He ignores the question and shoves his cell phone back into his pocket. "That's the tenth time this week," he spits and scratches the side of his head. I blink surprised that he is keeping track.

"That much?"

"Yes," he replies without looking at me. "What's going on with him lately?"

"What do you mean?" I ask trying to not sound like I'm taking sides.

"I think he's mad at me or something. If he is he should just tell me instead of messing with me like this!" he glares and mopes. I bite the inside of my cheek.

"You're absolutely right. He is acting like a child. You should check on him," I suggest and he directs his anger towards me unjustly wanting to vent.

"Do you think I'd be here right now if I hadn't done that already? The past few days he won't let me get anywhere near him." His lip curls back a little but I stay calm knowing he's not really angry at me but at the state of their relationship.

"What did you do?"

He turns away. "I stopped by his house two days ago and I saw him but it was really brief. He said he had plans with someone else already but wouldn't tell me who. I didn't believe him so I insisted he tell me if he had anything else going on and I could help him through it…"

I glance expectantly at him. "And?"

He breathes loudly. "And he said I wouldn't understand and I would only get upset," he pouts again angry at himself. "It's like he thinks I can't do anything for him. What a jerk!"

"He could have plans already you know. Maybe with a girl," I grin slightly at the implication in a weak attempt to lighten his mood.

He stares straight ahead and scowls. "Then he should at least let me meet her. I let him meet you. Maybe she's a total bitch or something or maybe he's trying to get back at me for all those times I bailed on him to hang with you."

My smile falls.

Though he's showing anger I can see more hurt on his face. Abruptly he looks at me confused. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Huh?" He takes the conversation on a different road.

"Maybe I said something to him that made him hate me?"

I shake my head without thinking and try to reassure him. "He could never hate you Stan. Don't think that. He's probably just going through something rough right now."

He stares straight ahead in thought. "Like what?"

I falter a bit and nearly trip. "I don't know. You would know more than me; you're his best friend."

It's silent for a block or two. "Then I'm not doing a very good job," he says finally. I frown and want to smack Kyle for doing this to Stan. He isn't doing a very good job either; what kind of friend makes his best friend beat himself up every day?

"You're doing a great job. I'll go check on him if you want," I suggest and hold his hand in my gloved one. I feel some hesitation in him.

"You can't. He won't open the door."

I smile at him and he blushes confused at my sudden cheerfulness. "Then I'll just have to make him open it."

ABCDEFGHIJKLMN

I stand outside Kyle's house and stare at the door. My mind is set and I'm too stubborn to leave. I just have to go in quickly, convince him to either see Stan more or go to a doctor, then go home and get ready to go to dinner with Stan and Bebe. If I had my best friend there then he should too.

"_Don't get disappointed if you can't get him to come out," Stan says with a frown outside my house. "I've tried a couple times. I think he's making Ike cover for him and tell me he's not home."_

I think back to earlier in the day when I promised him I'd get him to come out. It's settled; Kyle needed a change in attitude and soon. I knock three times and wait.

…

Nothing. Alright, no big deal. I knock three more times but instead make them louder this time.

…

……

Nothing. I press the doorbell twice and knock five times as loud as I can. "Excuse me is anyone home?" I raise my voice slightly below a yell.

It's silent for ten seconds and I'm ready to punch the door when it starts to move. I quickly pull my fist down when I see the face of a boy no older than eleven or twelve. He has fuzzy black hair and glances up at me blankly.

"Can I help you?" he asks and I can tell he's a little nervous, perhaps from me nearly breaking his door down.

I smile as politely as I can. "Hello. I'm Kyle's friend Wendy. Is Kyle home?" I ask.

The door moves towards me half an inch and the boy's eyes waver for a second. "Kyle's not here right now. Do you want me to tell him you dropped by and I'll have him call you?"

"Really?" I lie and feign confusion. "He told me he'd be home all day today."

The boy looks really baffled right now not sure what to do. His fingers squeeze the door slightly. "I think you're mistaken," he says. "He's not home."

_So you're really going to keep lying to me Kyle? _I think. _Well I can lie too._

"Oh. That's a shame. Well when he does get home can you tell him I have some urgent news to tell him about Stan?" At this his eyes grow large and his mouth sets as a thin line. "It's really important that he hears this from me."

He nods hesitantly and I pretend to turn to leave. "Thank you. Remember to tell him. It's important." I turn around and I hear the door shut slowly. When I spin back around to the door again I can hear someone running and I smile. I knew it. I wait on the front step patiently and only have to wait about two minutes when the footsteps return and the door flies open.

Kyle looks stressed out and in a panic obviously letting his imagination get the best of him. He starts to shout after me as if I were halfway down the street, "Wendy—" but fades off in disbelief when he sees me standing calmly by the rosebush under his living room window. Immediately he slouches and shuts his eyes pressing his head against the cool wall.

"Are you kidding me right now?" he asks himself weakly and I can tell he doesn't want to support himself anymore.

"How're you doing Kyle?" I ask casually and he glowers feebly up at me from under his bangs and hat. "Can I come in or would you rather chat outside?"

Deliberately standing up as slowly as possible he lowers his eyelids bored and prepares to shut the door. "None of the above." Before he manages to close it I jam my foot at the bottom and I hear him sigh.

"Sorry, that's not an option today."

"Wendy," he argues and puts more pressure on the door which surprisingly isn't that much. He must be drained because he doesn't look like he wants to deal with anything right now. "Move your foot please."

"Please? I didn't know that was in your vocabulary when you talk around me. You must be really sick to treat me like a lady." He glares. "I just need to talk to you for a minute and then I'll go. I promise." He doesn't budge and I can feel my patience and kindness leaving. "For Stan?" I ask and unconsciously he slowly loosens his grip on the door.

We're stuck staring at each other for what feels like forever before he reluctantly opens the door. "Make it quick."

I haven't been in Kyle's house since the sixth grade when a few of my friends egged his house at his sleepover. I never participated but I didn't know if he believed me. From what I heard his mom made him clean it all up unfairly.

He leads me upstairs and I see different pictures of when he and his brother were little all on the walls. My attention is brought back to him when he speaks in a hurry. "My mom's asleep so be quiet." I nod not wanting to wake his mother.

He brings me into his room which is neat and clean with a bed, dresser, and computer desk with a large computer. He shuts the door behind me and pulls the chair away from his desk to sit indolently. "What do you want?" he asks.

I sit calmly on the side of his made bed and cross my leg. "Come and hang out with us tonight."

He doesn't look amused. "You're bad at telling jokes Wendy."

I smile sarcastically and it falls as quickly as it comes. "I'm serious. It's Christmas break for god sake. You should be having fun and going out not sitting doing…What have you been doing in here?"

"Sleeping mainly," he retorts and looks like his attention is somewhere else.

I blink. "Sleeping? Really?"

"Yeah."

I take pity on him and feel a little bad for spooking him making him think something was wrong with his best friend. I take a closer look and see he's dressed pretty casually; a white shirt and black sweatpants with green socks. Maybe he has been sleeping. A little more gently I start, "Are you still sick?"

He scoffs. "You know how I'm feeling."

"Is it worse?" I ask and he shushes me listening to hear if his mom is stirring. Nothing. "Did you get worse?"

He sits up and looks me in the eye seriously. "Listen I appreciate that you took the time to come here and see how I was doing but to be honest I'm just going to come out and say it. I don't like you Wendy." The impact of his confession hits me like a ton of bricks, more than what he almost said at the movies when I thought he was just mad and saying stuff for the sake of venting. "I used to like you until you kept making Stan depressed. I used to tolerate you a few months ago but now you just have been getting on my nerves. And frankly the longer you're around the less I'm willing to do anything because I feel like you're my nanny or something."

I'm not sure what to say to that. "I—Kyle you understand why I'm acting the way I am."

He looks unimpressed. "No. No, actually I don't. Why are you?" I just stare at him thinking for a way to word it. "I'd understand you acting like this for your family or Stan or even your friends or something but I'm none of those so I don't get it. Is it because Stan and I are close?"

I hold our eyes and the room starts to get tense. "Partly," I admit and he smiles sourly I suppose glad I confessed what he probably always secretly knew. "But also because unlike like you I do like you." I have his full attention now. "I do. Maybe we don't connect like normal friends but at least I've been making an effort contrasting to you. You don't like me? Fine. I can deal with that I guess. I won't be your friend I'll be your common sense and babysitter then. Either one is fine with me but you're a lot dumber than I thought you were if you believe I'd let you kill yourself."

I realize by the end of my lecture I've raised my voice and made Kyle look uneasy putting his hands up as if to stop me. I'm standing now and blush embarrassed for my outburst and plop back down on his bed. He listens and is greeted with silence before he sighs and readjusts himself in his chair.

It's quiet and I look up at him timidly. "Did you get all that?"

He huffs and props his chin in his palm against the desk. "Yeah." He pauses as if to recall my eruption and gets a crinkle on his forehead. "And I'm not going to kill myself. If it got that bad I _would _go to the hospital."

"So you're not that bad?" I ask to make sure.

"If I am it's because you punched me in the gut at the movies." He's trying to get under my skin and it works.

"I'm sorry but if that's what it took for you to stop lying to me then it was worth it," I say standing my ground.

"Did I stop lying to you?" he shoots back with a raised eyebrow. I look away.

"I guess I didn't punch you hard enough," I say and am surprised when he lets a small laugh slide through. I watch him for a moment as he shakes his head and smiles slightly. He takes a small breath before looking back up at me curiously albeit a little skeptically.

"What?"

I fidget my hands in my lap. "Stan's really worried about you, you know."

His face downcasts and he looks away out his window; I assume he feels guilty but I'm not sure. I can never fully comprehend what he's thinking. "Not seeing him is making him worry just as much as if you told him you were sick. You're still digging yourself a hole."

He puts his chin back in his palm and looks like he's thinking. I scoot a little more to the edge of the bed, my butt barely on it. "What are you thinking?"

He glances at me. "If you plan on spending all break in here then I will have to believe it's serious and I really will have to tell. I don't want to," I threaten but not to get him in trouble. Surprisingly he doesn't look nervous like he did the first time I threatened to tell back outside the boy's room in a restaurant.

"I'll tell Stan."

I think it shows how shocked I am on my face because he smirks slightly. "You'll what?" I ask incredulously.

"I'll tell Stan myself."

I take a deep breath but remind myself not to raise my voice or his mom will surely wake and throw me out. I place a hand to my temple. "What do you mean you'll tell Stan? I thought you didn't want him to know."

"I don't. But I just want this to be clear that I want to do it. I will tell him at my own pace so I don't want you breathing a word. For now if you want to be my _friend _then just promise me you'll keep your mouth shut." He looks at me directly and his green clashes with my blue.

"Alright. But you have to start socializing again. If you don't I will break my promise and drag you to the hospital kicking and screaming if I have to." I won't bend. I have my limits too.

He sits up. "Fine." Kyle sticks out his hand and I stare at it a moment before standing up and shaking it. He smiles weakly. "Glad to see we agree on something finally." I slowly smile back. "Now get out of my house."

I frown at the abrupt change in his attitude. "Hey you said you'd socialize," I remind and cross my arms.

"I will but not today. I'm too tired. You woke me basically telling me something happened to my best friend."

"Well then what are you going to do here all night? It's only four and it's too early for bed."

He thinks a moment. "Not sure. It's none of your business what I do on my free time anyway." I place my hands on my hips.

"How about getting on the internet and typing in your symptoms to see what pops up?" He scowls deeply and there is a slight look of alarm in his eyes making me stop. "What?" I ask hesitantly.

He looks away borderline angry that I even mentioned it. His brow furrows and his shoulders tense. "I don't have _that_ much free time."

"Why not; you mean you haven't done it yet?"

"No."

"Then why not?" I persist.

"Just no."

I frown confused. "You mean you've never thought about it?"

"No!" he shouts directly at me and I glue myself to the floor.

"Shh! What if your mom hears?" I look towards the door nervously knowing exactly who Kyle got his temper from.

He bites his lip and also glances at the door. It's still silent. _Does she sleep like a rock?_ I think.

"Are you afraid?" I ask leaning over and trying to pinpoint the emotion on his face. He glares anxiously but remains silent. "Why? What's there to be scared of?" He still doesn't answer me. "I'm sure you're a little a curious."

"Not _that _curious," he barks.

"Why not?"

"I'm just not."

I pause and cautiously say, "Do you think it's that severe?" I feel nervous just asking it. The five seconds it takes for him to respond kills me, especially since he has to think about it.

"I don't know," he says defeated and the room becomes gloomy. He looks beaten down in a sad little pile on his chair. He's scared and that makes me scared for him. I lean down and he refuses to look at me.

"I'm calling Stan and canceling the dinner tonight."

OPQRSTUVWXYZ

"You can't go?" Stan speaks into the phone in disbelief. "Why, what happened?"

I stand awkwardly in Kyle's living room looking around at all his mom's decorations. "He just asked me for a favor and I said I'd do it."

"Well what did he ask? What's he doing?" Stan asks eager to get some information out of me.

I grip the phone uncomfortably. "I can't really say. But it's really important," I quickly add. "It truly came out of the blue and I couldn't say no. You understand, right?"

He's silent I suppose trying to take in all of my words. "So…he's fine?"

I shut my eyes tightly about to say my first lie to my boyfriend in two years. "Yeah. He's just having, um, some personal problems. He doesn't want anyone to know and when I showed up to check on him today he was such a mess that he spilled."

"Are you serious?" he asks disbelieving.

"Of course. I guess he just needed a push in the right direction. Would I lie to you?" I ask and my heart squeezes.

I hear him sigh and there's a smile in his voice. "No. I believe you. I just—I wish Kyle would've come to me. I mean you two don't even get along that well, do you?" He sounds slightly betrayed.

"We're alright," I say bending the truth a bit and glance back to see Kyle sitting on the bottom of the stairs staring at me bored. I turn back and look at the vase on the shelf and hold the cell phone closer to my face. "So I'm just going to stay at Kyle's right now till he sorts some things out."

"Okay. Do you want me to come over and see—"

I cut him off quickly. "No. No don't come over!" I glance back at Kyle who looks nervous at my exclamation.

"What do you mean? He doesn't want me to come over?" He's starting to sound how I usually sound when Stan talks about Kyle; jealous.

"It's not that he doesn't want you to come over," Kyle nods his head knowing that's exactly what he wants. "I just think it would be overwhelming to have a lot of people over to discuss this," I put gently.

Stan's quiet. "I don't know why he would want to talk to _you _instead of _me _but whatever," he sounds irritated and conquered. "As long as he's talking and isn't avoiding anybody any more then I'm happy I guess."

"Thank you. I promise to call you later tonight. I'll snap him out of it," I grin and face the other way so Kyle can't see.

"Okay. See you tomorrow then."

"Bye."

"Bye," I say and shut my phone. Breathing out in relief I spin around to see that Kyle still hasn't moved. "So now what?"

He shrugs and yawns. "I dunno. I never asked you to stay so I didn't know I'd have to entertain guests tonight," he mentions blandly.

I place my cell phone in my purse. "But you never said you didn't want me to either." He doesn't argue and says nothing. I sigh and rub the back of my neck looking around the room and into the kitchen where I hear some clanking going about; possibly his brother since his mom hasn't woken up. "I think you need it. Holding onto something this scary and facing it alone can put a lot of unneeded stress on you."

"Thank you Dr. Phil," he utters sarcastically and I roll my eyes.

"So first things first," I say and clasp my hands together not quite sure what to do but jumping in none the less. "Is there anyone else you want to inform?"

He shifts and glances into the kitchen when the clanking stops. "I didn't even want to inform you. If I had it my way I'd be in my bed alone and you and Stan would be hanging out like usual."

"Does your family suspect anything?" I ask out of curiosity but being sure to keep my voice down. I lean against the railing of the staircase.

"Not really. My dad's not home that much anymore since he's been trying to find work and my mom's been too busy helping Ike prepare for his trip to New York."

"He's going to New York?" I inquire in slight surprise. I smile. "Oh yeah. Our class went to see the Statue of Liberty too. That's pretty expensive. I remember it took me months to get the cash."

He shuts his eyes and leans his head against the wooden posts. "Yep. He has to work twice as hard as I did." There's something in his voice that sounds solemn.

"How come?"

He doesn't answer and I'm about to brush it off when his lips start to move. "Cause we're broke."

I take it as a joke until I notice he's completely serious. Suddenly the puzzle starts coming together. I lean over the railing and look down at him concerned. "Is that why you won't tell anyone?"

His eyes peek open, blink a few times, then look up at me. He doesn't answer.

"Kyle if you're thinking you can't go to the hospital because of this you're wrong. There are plenty of people who would help you out. If you're really sick you should do something about it."

"Kyle's sick?" another voice interrupts and we both jump. I turn around quickly to see his brother eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich looking at us calmly. Kyle quickly grips the beams on the railing and glares at him.

"Yeah. Sick of you eavesdropping. Get out of here Ike. Go watch T.V or something," he orders and saves himself quickly.

Ike pouts and gives him the cold shoulder muttering something about how stupid his brother is leaving down the hall. I grip my chest and shake off the jitter that just gave me. Kyle turns his icy glare to me now and I get a different kind of jitter.

"This is why I don't talk about it. This is why you shouldn't be here right now. It's not that serious for us to be holding little meetings," he explains bitterly and I can tell he's apprehensive.

"This isn't a meeting," I disagree.

"Doesn't matter on the technicality. I'm still not comfortable doing it."

"Then what do you want me to do? I want to help and leaving you alone doesn't cut it." I stare at him expectantly. I can see the gears turning in his head.

"Act natural. Always defend me around Stan so he doesn't become suspicious. Bring pain killers in your purse wherever you go in case I forget to bring some when leaving the house. If something does happen I'll call you and you better come get me within ten minutes. That's all I want from you, and for you to keep this a secret of course." I listen to his list of demands and end up nodding.

"What about checkups?" I ask curiously. He thinks a moment.

"As little as possible if you can help it," he admits.

"Good then. Now we're getting somewhere," I announce not super happy with the arrangements but it's more than I thought he was going to give me. Rubbing my temple from the oncoming headache I begin, "That was surprisingly simple. I canceled my dinner with Stan so now what do I do with the rest of the night?" I complain aloud.

Kyle looks at me blankly before something in his eyes soften. "Wanna watch a movie?"

I blink surprised and he looks away embarrassed. "Might as well do something while you're doing nothing."

I smile slowly and grab his arm to hoist him up off the stairs none too gently. "Alright. How about _Alien_?" I joke and pat his stomach. He glares.

"Very funny."

ABCDEFGHIJKLMN

It has been two days since I stayed at Kyle's trying to comfort him in some way realizing his fear of whatever is going on with his body. We watched a movie and he fell asleep during the first half hour. His mom came down and it was awkward being the only person awake in the room while her sun slept through _A Beautiful Mind_ in his sweats.

Kyle had still been secluded in his house since but I cut him a little slack agreeing to give him one more day before I dropped by again to see if it got worse. Ever since that night Stan has been giving me weird looks whenever we hang out. I'm sure it's just because his friend confided in me instead of him but I didn't think it would bother him this much.

Today is Thursday and Stan and I are planning on going on a special date we so rarely get. I am excited as I walk with him downtown expecting a fun night since the carnival is in town. I snuggle close to him and he laughs.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks and I can't help but grin.

"I'm just looking forward to tonight," I respond and he smiles back.

"Me too. We haven't been really alone in a long time. If we were the atmosphere was always school related or friend related. It should be a nice change." He scratched the back of his head.

"What should we do first? Anything but the fares wheel; we have to save that for last," I say and start daydreaming about the perfect end to a perfect night.

"Cotton candy," he says and I agree.

"Purple and blue," I mutter happily.

Just as I'm about to ask when he's picking me up a buzz is heard. I look at him and he starts searching until he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and answers it. "Hello?" I notice that as he says the word his eyes are calm and normal but apparently at the response of whoever is on the other end jubilation sparks into his eyes and they light up. I frown knowing that I've never been able to make his eyes do that.

He slides out of my grip to my displeasure. "Hey. How are you? Uh huh. Oh," he says and I try not to pout as he ignores me and starts a different conversation. I have an inkling to who it can be. Suddenly surprise erupts on his face. "What? Really? Of course I will!"

I wince as the volume in his voice rises with excitement. "Yeah I'm free. No problem. Alright. See you then." He hangs up his phone and I put on my polite little smile.

"Who was that?" I ask already knowing who it is.

"Kyle," he says and he looks like a happy little kid on Christmas Day. "He wants to hang out."

"That's great!" I say with forced excitement although I am relieved that Kyle is making an effort to socialize again. "What does he want to do?"

His grin splits his face and practically reaches his ears. "He wants to go to the carnival tonight."

My stomach drops as well as my smile. "What?" I ask quietly in disbelief. He doesn't seem to notice my changed demeanor.

"Yeah. It was really random. He said he just wanted to spend some time with me and that since the carnival is in town he wanted to check it out. I can't believe it," he exclaims and there's a skip in his step.

"Stan," I say gently and tap his arm to get his attention; or at least half of it. He turns and looks at me with large eyes. "You can't go with Kyle to the carnival tonight." He can't keep the disbelief from etching on his face.

"What? Why not?"

I try not to sound harsh. "Our date remember? That's tonight." I see the gears ticking in his head as realization hits him. Suddenly he stops and grabs me by the shoulders. I stare blankly at him.

"Wendy," he starts with a smile and I know what he's going to ask me. I turn my head trying not to get suckered it. I've been looking forward to this for a long time. "Please."

"This has been planned for two weeks," I remind him hoping he will stop talking; he doesn't.

"Please. He really wants to go," he tells me but if I know Kyle, and I do recently, he's just doing this so I'll get off his back. I try not to roll my eyes.

"It was supposed to be our night," I try again and give him my best puppy dog eyes; he's never been able to resist them.

He looks guilty and smiles awkwardly making my heart pound. "I'm sorry but I'm really going to have to take a rain check. I'll make it up to you I promise."

I watch in disbelief as my perfect day starts to fall apart at the seams. Carefully I try and put on a smile but I'm not sure how convincing it looks. "Alright. Go have fun. Tell me how it goes." My voice contradicts my face and is heavy. He doesn't notice he's too happy I let him off the hook. He picks me up and crushes me in a hug that nearly snaps my spine in half.

"Thank you!"

He drops me and my knees nearly give out. Stan walks much faster than me now eager to get me home and go hang out with Kyle. I wave as he leaves and only as his back is to me frown and feel tears burn my eyes.

I can only take so much of him praising Kyle before I crumble too.

**A/N: Another abrupt cut off. And I know; why is a carnival in town two weeks before Christmas? I have no idea.**


	8. We Need to Talk KPOV

**A/N: This was going to be Stan's POV but I changed my mind and plan to make that the next chapter or the one after. I'm still not sure. I don't know when I got so inspired for this story but I hope you're enjoying all the updates because I don't know how long it will last. It's very rare if you've been watching me a while and know I usually take a VERY long time to update.**

(KPOV)

I wasn't exactly dreading going to the carnival with Stan tonight but it wasn't at the top of my list either. As much as I hated to admit Wendy was right about me needing to get out of the house even if I did feel like crap. Stan was supposedly getting more worried when I didn't hang out with him than if I did. He called me the night after Wendy dropped by. Needless to say it was a brief and uncomfortable conversation. I didn't give him any information about my situation and feigned ignorance as to what Wendy had mentioned previously.

I'm assuming my call to him a few hours ago surprised him from the tone in his voice and even thinking back on it now as I hear the doorbell ring I can tell he's excited; probably more excited then I've seen him in a long time.

I open the door and am greeted with a sheepish grin from the boy in the red puffball hat. Even his stance is eager and I feel a bit intimidated what with my lack of liveliness. "Ready to go?" he asks and gives me a once over quickly to see if anything's out of place.

I step outside and close the door with a polite smile. "As ready as I'll ever be," I say and he's too lost in his own world to catch the slight weariness in my voice.

Halfway there he stuffs his gloved hands in his pocket and takes a deep breath, I think to show off his broad chest and toned physique that he's worked so hard for since becoming a football player. I puff out my cheeks a little envious when noticing I still had the same small, short body from back in my childhood.

"So what made you call me out of the blue to hang out?" he asks his eyes shining from the streetlights and dim sky.

I shrug nonchalantly. "I don't know. It could've been the dozens of invitations and hints you've been sending me the past week or so." I raise my eyebrow and he bites his lip. "Don't worry about it. I think I needed it. It was getting a little too suffocating in my house."

He elbows me and I let an amused puff of air out my nose in place of a laugh. "So where's your shadow?" I ask and he looks at me confused. I clarify. "Wendy."

Acknowledgment is shown in his features and he looks off into the distance almost as if he doesn't want to talk about it. I'm slightly interested. "She's at home I think."

"You think?" I ask mockingly and huddle deeper in my jacket. "You guys are like a married couple who goes everywhere together. How do you not know where she is?"

"I don't know…" he begins. " I kinda blew her off," he mutters quickly and I almost don't catch it partly because how fast it came out and partly because my brain couldn't process Stan blowing Wendy off. "I don't really want to talk about Wendy right now," he says and looks at me seriously, almost annoyed that I brought her up. I pull up my hands in lighthearted defense.

"Whoa whoa. Calm down. I get it. Icksne on the Endywe." His eyes soften and the unidentified emotion disappears from his posture.

"Let's just have fun tonight, okay? No more drama," he suggests as we arrive at the park where the rides and booths are set up.

I give a nod in agreement. "Alright." The idea that Stan thinks of Wendy as drama intrigues me but I don't press it.

To say it was a carnival was an overstatement. It was more like a derby of some sort. The rides were small and flimsy, the carnies weren't quite as freakish as last year, and the booths had cheap prizes probably made illegally by children in a factory in China or something.

I was about to pay the admission of five dollars when Stan stops me and pushes down my hand. I stare at him confused and he just smiles. "Don't worry about it, dude. I'm paying tonight."

He hands the man ten dollars and I skeptically put the bill back in my pocket. "Okay…" I say cautious and head into the noise of bright lights and crowded people. The whole town was here practically.

"What do you want to do first?" he asks and I really don't care.

"I really don't care," I say. Exactly.

"Come on! Stop being so indifferent all the time and choose something," he coaxes and motions to everything with one of his hands. I roll my eyes and scan for something simple.

I extend my arm and point out in front of us blandly. "There." His eyes follow my extended pointer finger and lands on the cheap little haunted house ride.

"That?" he asks and I see his disbelief showing. "We haven't been on the haunted house ride in years. It sucks." he says and I look at the short line, mostly consisting of little kids.

"I know. I'm just feeling nostalgic," I lie. Truth is I just knew it was dark and slow and that's just what I needed at the moment. Stan seems to accept my excuse and goes along with it reluctantly.

When we get in line a few passerbies give us strange looks seeing as we don't have kids we're taking on the ride. I ignore them as does Stan.

We get up the steps and see a few little kids crying and clinging to their parents and I smile, the situation reminding me of when Cartman reacted the same way back in third grade. He was always a baby; I knew even with his tough front up.

"How many?" the guide asks monotonously.

"Two," Stan says and starts to take out tickets from his pockets.

"Six tickets," the man says and Stan hands it to him. As we're boarded onto the cramped little cart I glance inquiring at him.

"Why do you already have tickets?" I ask thickly and he smiles embarrassed. "You came here earlier didn't you?" I ask slowly as the flimsy bar gets pulled in front of us.

"Yeah…"

I look down at his pocket. "How many tickets do you have?"

The ride shakes and starts to move into the dark tunnel slowly when he says reverting back to old habits and pinches the brim of his nose. "Seventy."

I gape. "Seventy! Stan, what're you gonna do with seventy tickets?" I blurt unable to see the details of his face in the tunnel; only his outline visible.

"I just, you know, wanted to be prepared for whatever we wanted to do here," he uses that as an excuse.

"How long did you think we were going to be here, all night?" I ask slightly shocked at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Wow," I mutter after a while. "Seventy tickets."

He socks me in the arm obviously wanting me to lay off.

"It's not that humiliating, Stanley," I joke and don't even flinch when a dummy in a noose falls in front of us. "For me anyway. For you it must be really embarrassing," I laugh a bit and he grits his teeth.

"Shut up! I just didn't want to run out and have to waste time going back to the ticket booth all night," he says and I can practically feel the heat radiating off his cheeks onto my face.

"Calm down," I say catching another one of his fists intending to hit my shoulder. I didn't need his stupid jock strength fracturing any bones even if he was just playing around. "You're the scariest thing on the ride," I kid and can't help but grin.

The cart suddenly jerks to the right on a curve and my gut wrenches. I forgot about that turn. The ride is as boring as ever and the same as when we were kids all except for a few added props. I look up and see a werewolf. "There's your sister," I say calmly and point. Stan looks and says nothing.

He turns around and points to my left. "There's your mom," he comments at a witch. We both laugh and come out of the tunnel into the light of the derby. I think we're the only ones coming out laughing and the atmosphere is light again.

We step out of the ride and walk off the platform ending up back where we started; picking rides.

"You pick something this time," I say not wanting to have to decide what to do. If I got what I wanted then Stan would have the most boring and easygoing night of his life.

"Okay..." he starts, his eyes glancing around till it focuses on one particular ride. "How about that one?"

I crane my neck and look up in horror to see a tall ride where all the little carts rotate quickly spinning around and going up and down. Screams echo off the ride and the poles rattle menacingly almost as if it couldn't hold the weight. My stomach drops all the way to my feet and my mouth becomes dry. "Th-the Devil's Merry-go-Round?" I murmur barely audible reading the sign in disbelief.

"Yeah. It supposedly makes you so sick you eventually vomit your intestines," he turns to me with almost childlike wonder and I just stare back unresponsive with large green eyes the size of dinner plates.

"I-is that so?" I'm surprised I'm still able speak. My stomach churns in warning. Trying not to show my hand is shaky I point to a different part of the park with an unbalanced smile. "How about that instead?"

Stan turns his attention to an actual merry-go-round and his smile falls. "A…real merry-go-round," he says without any trace of emotion. I look at him with my fake smile and expectant eyes, my eyebrows raised curiously.

I can feel my heart pounding like a drum when he looks back at me, an unreadable emotion plastered on his face.

"A-alright," he says aversely and I feel bad for sucking out his excitement but I absolutely can't go on anything with the name _Devil's Merry-go-Round._

When we get in line it's another KinderCare crowd and I can't help but regret my choice of rides. Stan obviously didn't want to be seen on this thing I could tell by the look of horror on his face; this would contrast with his football player persona.

All in all it was the worst three minutes of my life. It was probably twice as bad for Stan judging his face when exiting the ride. He was going to have a rough night considering I wouldn't step foot on any roller coasters.

As the night progressed I led Stan around the park playing lame games to win prizes, bypassing any food stands he wanted to get a bite to eat at, and going on the slowest most ludicrous excuses for rides ever. By the time it was ten I was exhausted and he was practically bored to tears.

We sat on a bench watching all the different people going on different rides and actually winning prizes at the hoop toss. I held a corndog virtually intact in my hand while Stan sipped on his soda quietly, his previous energy and excitement gone.

I sit tensely before taking a small breath and kicking a clump of snow out from under my feet. "Do you want to just call it a night?" I ask without effort and he looks at me from the corner of his eye. There's something there that looks like he's been dreading this part of the night.

I lean over and toss my corn dog into the closest trashcan unable to take the smell anymore. "Tonight's been kind of a bust. I'm sorry," I apologize and he takes his mouth away from the straw.

"No. It's been…" he starts but can't find the words. I fill in the blanks for him.

"A waste of your time." His eyes shoot to mine distressed. I can tell he's about to protest but I continue before he can start. "Dude you agreed to go on the little choo-choo that does circles around a third of the park. It's a bust."

He shuts his mouth. I pat his shoulder. "I appreciate it though. We haven't been hanging out as much as I wish we did. Thank you."

He looks at my hand then at me. Rolling his head back and sighing he pats my hand twice before chucking his empty soda past my head and in the garbage. I flinch always nervous whenever he does that.

I think he's about to say we're leaving when he surprises me and laughs. "We only used thirty of the tickets," and I smile. He glances back at me. "Come on." Stan stands up abruptly and I look up at him confused.

"Where are we going?" I call out as he starts heading off the frosty field and out towards the street. He merely waves his hand telling me to come without using words. I groan not liking the looks of this and wanting to be in my soft bed soon. With strained effort I get up and follow my forlorn friend out of the park and into the dark streets.

He's a good twenty paces ahead of me before I call out again gripping my side loosely. "Stan! Where're you going?"

"Just follow me," he says and takes bigger strides. I glower.

"Where's all this coming from! I thought you said we were going home," I protest and he scoffs playfully.

"I never said that. You might've implied it but I never said that," Stan says glancing over his shoulder with his typical lopsided grin. I scowl but it doesn't faze him.

The farther we get the more familiar the neighborhood gets. My eyes scan and evaluate the house patterns in the glow of the streetlights when it finally clicks and my feet stop moving. Stan takes a few more paces before he doesn't hear the pitter patter of my feet anymore and stops completely. He turns halfway to look at me glued to the cement with a defiance burning in my eyes.

"Stan…Why are we heading towards Cartman's house?" I ask with warning. He grins sheepishly and scratches the back his head.

"What do you mean?" he asks feigning innocence. I frown.

"Cartman lives right there, Stan." I state and hope he picks up on the warning in my tone. "I hate Cartman. Why would I want to spend my free time with him when I don't have to?"

"It's a surprise," he says and I take a step back. He looks panicky like I'm going to leave and gets on offense.

"What do you mean? I thought we were just going to the carnival thing tonight," I say and eye him in the dark.

He puts his hands up extending them slightly as a wordless plea for me to keep cool and not make any rash decisions to cut the night short. I take another step away from him. He tries to explain. "He has a car." I wait for the rest but nothing comes.

"And…? Lots of people have cars." I don't quite understand where he's going with this.

"I asked him before I went and bought all those tickets and he said I could borrow it if I paid for his gas for two weeks."

My lips purse in a thin line on my face. He shifts obviously not liking the look I'm giving him. "What do you want his car for?"

He rocks back on his heels and straightens a bit. "Well I thought we could use it tonight."

I pause still not understanding. "To drive where?" I order confused and he sighs exasperated.

"Anywhere! I don't care. The point is I wouldn't have to walk you all around town and wherever else you wanted to go. You always lag behind at school and stuff so I figured you'd like the break!" he announces a bit angry that I ruined the _surprise._ I took his friendly gesture and analyzed the shit out of it.

I narrow my eyes slightly glancing at the cheap piece of crap Cartman drives around before looking back at Stan. "I don't need a car Stan. And besides you haven't even had your license for a year. You can't drive me." I can tell he's a bit frustrated that I declined his offer and he's stuck paying Cartman for two weeks worth of gas anyway.

"Who cares?"

I hold out my hands and point them at me. "Uh, I do. Remember? Kenny called me Captain Conscience all of eighth grade."

"You can ignore it one time," he requests hoping he can still make this work for me without me making it more awkward.

"No I can't," I say refusing to budge.

"Why not? We can go to Starks Pond or that huge rock we used to sit on when Jimbo would take us up in the hills or even to the cemetery to see the dozens of Kenny graves dating back to Kindergarten. You were so interested in nostalgia and reminiscing tonight with all the kiddy rides I figured now would be a good time to drive and go see some," he admits and I look away feeling guilty. I'm aware I wasn't really reminiscing tonight but protecting my secret from Stan.

He knits his eyebrows together. "I wasn't even going to use the damn car tonight until you started talking about when we were kids and stuff and…Well I started miss it. Why is it that it was so easy to just be friends back in elementary school but now you won't even come near me?" I note how far we stand apart even now. We look like total strangers. His eyes bore into mine.

Oh God. I freeze and see the real emotions he's iced over and tried to hide when I secluded myself in my house, possibly even way before that. I shift uncomfortably not sure how to answer the question. "I thought we were just going to have fun tonight. No drama, remember?" I repeat in hopes that he would continue to hide these moods and try to meet his eyes. It doesn't work very well.

He slumps with a frown. "I thought so too but it's hard when you're making it so blatantly obvious."

I look up and notice he's a lot closer then he was thirty seconds ago; within arm's length. I intend to take another step back and bolt when a door flies open and we're engulfed in the light radiating from someone's living room. A large mass stands in the doorway and I hold up my gloved hand over my eyes to see the angry features of Eric Cartman. Great, just what I needed; more drama.

"Ay! Shut the fuck up! Go have your faggy fight on someone else's lawn," he snarls and I resist the urge to plug my ears from his gravelly voice.

"It's a free country, fatass!" I bark forgetting Stan is having some sort of friendship crisis right in front of me as anger fuels my body. I walk away from Stan and come face to face with Cartman when he meets me halfway on his snowy lawn.

"You're attitude's been starting to bug me, Jew. I'd fix that if I were you before someone has the right mind to pop you one," he smirks in my face. I smile bitterly back with the same intensity.

"I'm shaking."

His brown eyes flicker over my shoulder at Stan's abandoned figure standing on the border of the light and the dark street. He hasn't moved from his spot, his arms still in their same positions. I suppose it looks funny to see such a tough jock look like a confused little kid witnessing an embarrassing fight his parents start having in public out of the blue. But knowing Stan's family he probably has witnessed that.

"What're you doing here?" he asks ignoring me which makes my blood boil.

Stan speaks up with a surprisingly poised voice from across the lawn. "Borrowing your car…maybe," he deadpans.

Cartman glances back to me and kicks some slush on my feet and on my pants. I let out a yell of protest and step back to wipe the cold snow that's starting to seep into my pants and burn my skin. "Not if you're taking Kahl."

Stan glares. "You never said that. There were no conditions except I pay for gas."

Cartman's defiant stare doesn't waver. "I don't want him in my car. He'll probably stink it up or something."

I finish wiping the snow off and stand up straight. "I couldn't make it smell worse if I tried so you don't have to worry there."

Another kick with twice as much snow. "Cartman!" I growl and take four steps back trying to get rid of the substance making my pants soaked.

"You can't use my car," he tells Stan again and I can tell he won't bend.

Stan glowers at the ground a moment before digging through his pockets to pull out the keys I'm assuming Cartman gave him. "Fine! I wasn't going to use it anyway," he says and tosses the keys.

Before they can land in Cartman's palm I snatch them out of the air and he stares puzzled at me. I blow a rough puff of air through my nostrils like a bull before smiling wickedly at him. I dangle the keys. "Stan's actually borrowing your car. He wants to use it." Stan stares bewildered at me. "I on the other hand am just a stowaway."

I walk by Stan and shove the keys at his chest where he quickly but stunned grabs them. I go to the passenger side of the car and see Stan give one quick glance at Cartman before dashing towards the car and getting in. He unlocks my door and we can hear the stream of profanities coming from Cartman's mouth. As we're pulling out of his driveway I lean out the window and yell, "Don't worry! Stan will have it back in perfect condition tomorrow morning!"

As he becomes a dot in the distance I can barely hear him yelling that he's going to call the cops.

And then he's out of sight.

I quickly roll up the window when my nose and cheeks feel like icicles and turn the heater on full blast. I remove my gloves and shiver putting my hands up to the vents. The car is quiet and it becomes tense again as Stan remains silent. I almost regret my decision of taking Cartman's car out of spite even though I didn't want it in the first place.

Seconds become minutes before I dare to glance at Stan. He's staring straight ahead driving God knows where when his lips start to move.

"Do you think he's really going to call the cops?"

I slowly start to grin. "No. Who's gonna believe him when he says someone wanted this piece of junk?" I say and pat the seat with a gaping hole so deep it shows the wooden support under the padding.

Stan chuckles quietly and glances at me quickly before at the road. "You're probably right. Kenny, on the other hand, would kill for this car."

I lean back in my seat as the heat starts to circulate. "Yeah. I bet it's worth more than his house and everything in it put together." Stan smiles. "He'd probably sell his house just to put this on his lawn to show off to his neighbors."

Stan outwardly laughs and I do too until the rumbles of the laughter feels bruising. I stop abruptly and Stan shortly after confused as to why I suddenly became quiet.

"I thought you didn't want the car," he says changing the subject.

I grip my side hoping it looks like I'm just cold and shrug. "If it gets Cartman mad then I do."

He's quiet another moment before his brow furrows slightly. "So…" he starts trying to understand. "You'll take the car to make him mad but not when I go out of my way to be a nice friend for you?"

Shit. Not this again. I hunker down in the seat and look out my window trying to make it seem like I'm barely paying attention. Not knowing what else to say I mutter, "Pretty much."

I don't look at him so I don't know what he's thinking. The car slows down to a stop and my heart speeds up and I sit up thinking something's wrong. I look out the windshield and immediately calm down seeing a stop sign. I relax until he makes a left instead of a right.

Curiously I look over at him to see him just staring blankly out in front.

"Stan, my house was a right not a left," I remind him.

"I know."

I sigh. "Then why are we going left?"

"Because I'm the driver and you're just a stowaway," he states and I shut my eyes tightly regretting my choice of words back at Cartman's house.

Not wanting to argue I just sit back for the ride ignoring the pinch of anxiety making a home in my stomach. "Okay," I say and watch the houses whizzing by.

We drive around for twenty minutes and I am not sure where we are anymore. The neighborhoods became alien to me ten minutes ago but I figured Stan knew where he was going. He would always drive around blindly with his dad's car whenever he had something on his mind. After another ten minutes I began to get bored and nauseous.

"Stan," I speak up finally. "I need to get home. It's almost eleven."

He glances down at the neon lit clock down by the emergency break before staying intent on looking ahead. I sit up and put my gloves back on. "Do you even know where we are?" I ask looking out all the windows. "Are we even still in South Park?"

Blandly, "No."

"Well where are we?" I ask a little harsher.

He doesn't tell me. "I know where we are."

I sigh and shake my head adjusting my hat. "Dude, I'm tired and these roads are starting to make me sick."

"Give me a minute," he says and I look unamused.

"I gave you thirty minutes. If you just want to blow off steam and drive around, cool. But I don't want to be here when you do it. It's quiet and I'm bored not to mention exhausted. I think it's time we called it a night."

I'm not sure if he's listening to my logic and I click my tongue against my teeth. I apply a new approach. "How much gas is in the tank anyway?"

"Over half."

"You should fill it up. You don't want Cartman to scream at you when you get back. It would butter him up," I say with a hint of humor.

"We're fine," he says unwavering.

I stare. "Stan, is everything alright?" My skin starts to feel like bugs are crawling on it as I wait for his answer.

"Everything is fine." There's something wrong with the tone he answered with. I unconsciously scoot closer to him.

"Are you sure?"

He won't glance at me. "Yeah."

I take off my gloves again and put them in the gap between the seats. My mind starts getting the best of me and paranoia sets in. I immediately think of Wendy and my voice becomes icy cold. "Did Wendy say something?"

That sparks something in him and he raises his voice in irritation. "Why do you keep bringing Wendy up?" he snaps and turns his head quickly to look at me. Okay, maybe I was wrong.

"I don't keep _bringing her up_," I defend but try to keep my own anger under control. The last thing we needed was to end this night on a bad note and I was determined to stop getting under Stan's skin.

"That's what it feels like," he says and does a quick turn to the right and I cling onto the seat so I don't fly out. Stupid Cartman can't even afford decent seatbelts.

"I'm just wondering is all," I feign curiosity. "Did she say something to make you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you!" he barks at me and does another jerky move with the car making butterflies take off in my stomach as the slush splashes against the windows.

"Sure seems like it to me," I mutter and cling to the seat. "Would you mind slowing down?"

He ignores my request obviously drowning in his own pent up emotions. Wendy definitely said something or he wouldn't be this angry at me. My face pales at the thought of her telling him my secret and now he's mad at me for lying to him about something so serious…not that it's serious.

"You're not always right, Kyle. Sometimes other people are right."

We go over a bump and some bile fills my mouth. It burns and I gag. "Alright. What am I wrong about then?"

"Everything."

I pout. "That's a broad spectrum, Stan. Wendy is obviously making you mad or else you wouldn't be driving like a fucking maniac!" I exclaim and sink back into the seat when I think he's going to hit a tree. He doesn't and I let out a shaky breath of relief.

"It's not Wendy, it's you!" he retorts and I'm surprised.

"Me? What did I do?" I ask demanding to know. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong.

"You're always talking about Wendy and wanting her to come along and stuff," he says and I gape.

"_Me? _Are we even talking about the same Wendy?I never talk about her let alone drag her along like you do all the time. It's your fault our friendship's so crappy in the first place."

He shoots me a glare. "Besides," I continue snatching my gloves before they fall on the dark floor. "She's the one who's always following me, not the other way around. She won't leave me alone. It's not my fault."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not lying," I try to reason desperately.

His nose crinkles up as he glares daggers out the windshield. "You know if you love her so much then why don't you be her best friend."

I blanch in disbelief and see red. I can't control it anymore; he's officially ruined the night with his stupid accusations. "Stop the car!" I shout as loud as I can and he steps on the break making the wheels squeal in protest.

We come to a complete stop in the middle of the road and I ignore the whiplash I get from his abrupt action. The only sound in this strange little town is the humming of the engine. I knew I should have just let him alone; his last statement actually hurt me physically. I felt like crying as gay as that sounds.

I throw my door open ignoring the stinging cold that hits my skin as he looks over at me. I hop out of the car and glare hoping that the pain didn't show on my face although I'm sure it did. "Maybe I will. At least Wendy doesn't kidnap me!"

He pouts angrily and says before I shut the door, "Don't freeze out there." I stop and throw my gloves at his face.

"I'll freeze if I want to. You're a jerk, Stan!" I yell and slam the door. Cartman's probably not going to want his car back; I think I just unhinged his door. I start to stomp off and rub my hands together looking for the nearest payphone and mentally prepare myself for the punishment my mom is going to dish out.

The car hasn't moved since I got out of it because I can still hear the engine idly humming. I don't turn around when I hear it come to life abruptly and the headlights come at me. Stan keeps the car at pace with me when he pulls up beside me.

"Kyle, get in the car," he says calmly now with a slight tone of guilt.

"Fuck you," I growl and don't even look at him. I'm still too mad. My face burns as I continue walking down this foreign street and I wish I was asleep in my bed right now.

"Kyle, please," he says and I want to laugh at how pathetic he sounds. My teeth chatter and I glare at him. He no longer looks angry but apologetic.

"No. I'll just go c-call my new best friend Wendy to c-come out here and get me," I say spitefully but it doesn't come out harsh at all, just pitiful.

He sighs. "I didn't mean that. Just get in the car. You're going to freeze."

"I don't care," I snap and pull my coat higher around my neck. "I'd rather f-freeze than sit in that car with y-you." I see a twinge of hurt ripple on his face before he looks down.

"I'm sorry. I'm just taking out my own problems on you. Things just haven't been going too well with me and Wendy and you're not around for me to talk to anymore so my anger has nowhere to go but out on random people."

I'm silent when I hear the part about Wendy. Maybe that's why he freaked out when I brought her up. And here I was thinking she told on me. I felt at fault now, great.

"Come on, get in the car. I promise I'll take you home," he tries to reason with me and I stop. The car stops immediately too and I ponder for a moment. Slowly, without looking at him, I wander around to the passenger side of the car and hop in. I thank God that Cartman has a working heater in here.

He rolls his window up and starts driving like sane person now heading back down towards South Park I think. The ride is quiet the whole way, both of us feeling guilty in our own way and too afraid to be the first one to talk.

When we pull up to my house it's close to eleven thirty. The porch light is still on so I know the door's still unlocked. That was my mom's warning. Stan clicks the engine off and we sit in the car silently as he hands me my gloves that I threw at his face. I put them on and grab the door handle.

"Thanks for tonight. It was…fun," I say but it doesn't sound convincing. He smiles weakly.

"No problem."

It's awkward again.

"Well I'll see you later then," I say and open the door. Before I can hop out I hear Stan speak up worried.

"Are you mad at me?"

I turn to look at him confused. He looks nervous like I don't want to be his best friend anymore. I smile lightly and hop out of the car.

"How can I be mad at my best friend?"

He slowly looks relieved and shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Just sort out whatever's making you lash out. I don't think I'll be able to survive another one of your angry car rides," I say in an attempt at dry humor. Shutting the door I walk up to my house noting that Stan doesn't start the car till he's sure I'm inside. I wave at him as he drives away before walking up the stairs to my room.

I flop exhausted on my bed and turn my head to the beeping blue light of my phone charger. I pick it up. One new message. I furrow my brow confused at who it's from: Wendy.

Opening my phone I read it.

_How did it go?_

Hesitantly I type in a response before shutting my eyes and fading into unconsciousness.

_We need to talk._


	9. White Elephant Party KPOV

**A/N: I had a really hard time writing this chapter. I feel it's rushed and I'm not quite satisfied with it. I'm sorry if it didn't come out well. Also I'm going to remind you this ****isn't a KylexWendy fic****. Not even one sided. Just want to clarify that.**

**On another note, come look at my PICTURE FOR THIS STORY. **

**Orange-plum (dot) deviantart (dot) com.**

**Go have a look I hope I drew it well.**

(KPOV)

I hear my doorbell ring and run down the stairs nearly tripping over myself. When I get to the bottom I grab the railing and yell, "I got it mom!" I see my dad giving me a weird look over his newspaper in the living room and wave my hand to him. "I got it."

I open the door and see Wendy standing there with curious eyes peering into my house. Before she can even mutter a greeting I shove her back and grab my coat. "Bye dad, be back later!" I shut the door and start walking past her without even looking at her.

She's irritated from the shove and disregard to her presence. She doesn't move from her spot. "Hey! Where're you going? I thought you wanted to talk."

I say over my shoulder, "Hurry up. We're not doing this at my house."

She blinks confused and starts following me. It's times like these I wish I had a car. Wendy comes up beside me and her annoying high pitch voice starts to get on my nerves again.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"Tweek's Coffee Shop."

That doesn't satisfy her so she feels the need to keep talking. "Why?"

"Because it's close by and it's not my house," I state losing interest. We get close to the shop when she grabs me at the elbow so I look at her with drooped eyelids.

"Why can't we be at your house?" she asks seriously.

I pull my arm away and straighten my jacket before responding. "Don't you think it's weird that Stan's best friend and his girlfriend are holding secret get-togethers?" She doesn't say anything. "Wouldn't it be way more suspicious if someone saw me inviting you into my house for said get-togethers?" She starts to understand. "Right. We're not doing this at my house." I continue towards the shop and open the door. It shuts before she can walk through and she grunts irritated and opens the door making the bell jingle again.

I sit down at a small table by the window and wait for her to catch up. Usually I would be more polite to Wendy but considering the outburst she gave Stan by just having her name mentioned I really didn't care anymore. She was obviously doing something to him and I wanted to figure out what.

She takes a seat and I nod at Tweek twitching behind the counter. He waves back before helping his mom stack the coffee on the shelves. His dad walks up and I order just plain black coffee whereas Wendy orders some vanilla sweetened shit.

When he leaves I take off my hat and rub my hand through my hair before placing it back on. I do that whenever I get nervous. She takes off her jacket and folds it over the side of her chair before looking at me directly.

"So? What did you want to talk about?"

I cross my arms against the table jumping to the point. "Stan."

Obviously the mentioned name of her boyfriend surprises her and she raises her eyebrows. "Stan? What for?"

I fiddle with the creamers on the side of the table. "He had a bit of an outburst last night." I look up to gauge her reaction and see her eyes widen.

"What do you mean? What'd he do? Did you get hurt or something?" She starts popping out all these questions and it's my turn to be surprised. I'm a bit offended and glare.

"_What? _No! Why would I get hurt?" I blurt and glance at the Tweaks to see they haven't stopped doing their work. I lean in closer. "What do you think Stan would do?"

She leans in as well her eyes darting a little. "I don't know. I don't think he'd hurt you on purpose but I've seen him get mad and he could do some reckless things," she says in a harsh whisper. "Besides I wasn't thinking you would get hurt by him; I was thinking about your stomach that's it."

"My stomach was fine, thank you very much," I mutter leaning back when Mr. Tweak brings our coffees. "Thank you," I smile. I open a sugar packet and pour it in my coffee before pulling it to my lips and taking a sip. God I needed this.

Wendy stirs her coffee and takes a sip herself. "That's good to hear," she says quietly. Setting it down she glances over her shoulder to see more people coming into the shop. "Then what happened? Why'd Stan yell at you, is that what you said?"

I lean back in my chair. "We kinda yelled at each other." I think about it for a moment before shaking my head. "Actually there wasn't much yelling. It was more what we were arguing about."

"Oh?" she inquired taking another sip of her coffee.

I smiled mockingly. "It was about you, Wendy."

She sputters and I laugh lightly at the coffee dribbling on her chin. She wipes it with a napkin. "Me?" she asks confused.

"It appears that way," I mutter looking outside at the hustle and bustle of South Park.

"What'd I do?" she asks desperately wanting to know why just mentioning her made her boyfriend lash out at me.

I shrug not sure myself. "I don't know, that's what I thought you could tell me today. What did you do because I almost got stranded in a neighboring town close to midnight?" I wish I could get wallet sized pictures of her face at that moment. I reached over and pushed up the bottom of her jaw that was hanging practically to the table.

She shook her head and closed her eyes trying to process this. "What! Wait a minute; he kicked you out in the cold?" A few eyes glanced at us but I stayed calm drinking my coffee.

"No. I left. He came back though and apologized like I knew he would. He's just stressed I guess but I don't know what about. I just said your name and he blew up on me." More seriously I set the cup down and look at her sternly. "So what did you do?"

I can see behind her eyes she's trying to find what she could have done but she ends up drawing a blank. "I don't know. Maybe I made him feel bad for him blowing off our date because of you?"

I think and shake my head. "No. I don't think it was that. I'm just going to go ahead and ask; did you tell Stan about me?" Even though my outward appearance looks calm my insides are a wreck. I was terrified of her answer and was relieved with her response.

"No. I promised you. I never mentioned that to Stan at all."

I notice some students from our school in line eavesdropping and I flip them off. They jump and turn back to the counter.

I study her for a moment before believing her. It didn't seem like she was lying to me. I scratched the back of my head frustrated. "Well then what the hell was he so angry for last night?" I ask aggravated by the fact that Stan is having problems and I can't help him. I wonder if he felt the same way about me recently.

"Obviously we're doing something wrong," she mutters and I silently agree. She places her lips against the rim of the glass but doesn't drink. She's thinking. "He seems fine when he's with me…at least until," she stops in mid-thought.

I glance up at her curious. "Until what?"

She sets her cup down and bites her lip slightly. "Well the other day he was asking me about you. You know when I canceled our dinner to stay at your house."

"What'd he say?" I ask and rest my arms on the table leaning over a bit.

She shakes her head slightly. "I didn't think anything of it. Just how you were doing and what did we talk about and stuff like that. I just said we discussed your issue and watched a movie. He seemed fine so I didn't press it."

I stare. "Huh. Well then I don't have a clue," I say stumped and lean back in my chair with a plop.

She gives me a look of apology. "Me either. He's probably just going through something on his own. It's probably nothing."

"Yeah…" I drift off taking a long sip from my coffee not quite believing her. Wendy is quiet for a good amount of time before observing me.

"So on a different note how are you doing?"

I bite the inside of my cheek expecting that question. "Fine."

She smiles. "You sure?"

"I can't tell you how sure I am," I say finishing off my coffee. She grins.

"That's good. I'm glad you're feeling better."

I give a fake wide smile and shrug. "Well you know me." I stand up not waiting for her to finish her coffee and pay up front.

"S-see you later Kyle. Gah!" Tweek waves and clenches his shirt. I grin.

"You too. Great coffee as usual," I say and start leaving. When I open the door I hear Wendy's angry shout of protest at the cashier.

"Hey, wait up Kyle!"

She reaches my side and pinches my arm making me flinch. "Hey!" I shout and rub my arm looking accusingly at her.

She glares. "I said wait up. Where are you going now?"

I sigh. "Our talk is done so I was gonna go back home."

"That was it? You could have just called me instead of making me come over to your house," she scolds irritated. I brush it off and speed up hoping to get some time away from Stan's pride and joy. "Hold on a second, Kyle," she mutters and pulls off her glove to look at her palm. I eye her curiously until she starts reading a reminder she wrote.

"There's going to be a Christmas party at Stan's tonight around eight. He wants to know if you can make it. It's a white elephant party," she smiles at me expectantly and I groan.

"Out of the blue he springs this on me," I mutter in annoyance. "When was this planned?" I ask and see her think.

"Five days ago. We just didn't want to tell you until the last minute in case you tried to think of an excuse to get out of it," she explains and slips her yellow glove back on.

"We or he?" I raise my eyebrow.

She's silent staring blank at me before announcing, "Him."

"Uh-huh…"

She bounces on her toes and gets a nagging tone in her voice giving me a headache. "Please go. We all would have a better time if you were there."

I sigh. "I hate white elephant parties," I mutter in disdain. White elephant parties are the cheaply thrown parties where people rummage around their houses trying to find something presentable to wrap up and give to a stranger. I always thought they were a waste of time because I usually received something I never wanted or that was shabby and borderline broken. This year probably wouldn't be any different.

"They're fun. Please? I told Stan I'd bug you for him since I was coming over today anyways."

I blink a little surprised. "You said that?"

"That'd I'd bug you? Yeah. He told me to," she laughs before I pinch her cheek making her shout and rub her it painfully with a glare.

"No. That you were coming over today."

"Yeah," she says holding her cheek. "What's the problem?"

I glare slightly ahead as my house comes into view. Something in my gut churns and I confront her on it. "Don't do that. I already don't like feeling like Stan may think something's up with me let alone you pretending like I'm confessing some huge personal problem to you. It feels weird."

"Are you insecure?" she inquires craning her neck to the side as I grab my doorknob.

I sputter. "No," I lie not liking the feeling of apprehension about my supposed illness.

I can tell she doesn't believe me and smirks making me blush angrily.

"I have to go," I say quickly and open the door leaving her smiling on my front step.

"Consider the party," she says one last time and I scratch the back of my neck.

"See you Wendy," and I shut the door.

OPQRSTUVWXYZ

Stan has minions. I'm not lying, he really does. An hour or so after Wendy and I met at the coffee shop my phone received over a dozen texts from people I assume were going to Stan's Christmas party.

I sighed for the millionth time today when I got my third message from Butters saying it would be real swell if I went. I sat at the table in my empty kitchen an hour before the party was supposed to start with a can of diet Pepsi for my stomach. I'd heard somewhere that carbonation helps calm an upset stomach and boy was mine upset.

I close my phone and set it on the table figuring the burning in my stomach was from stress. I shut my eyes and rest my cheek in my palm watching my mom go around the house with Ike looking for his mittens. She pokes her head in and none too quietly hollers at me.

"Kyle have you seen your brother's mittens?" she asks irritated. Ike protests behind her and she shushes him. I open my eyes and stare curiously at her.

"Why?"

"Because it's freezing out there! Goodness, it's nearly the last night of Chanukah and Christmas Eve and there's no mittens to be found in this pigsty," she complains and I glance around noticing the house is practically spotless. I don't know what she's talking about.

"Are you ready honey?" my dad yells from the front door and I sit up confused.

"In a minute, Gerald! Do you know where they are or not?" she asks impatiently.

"It's fine, mom," Ike says embarrassed before she snaps irritated at him.

"No it's not. Your hands are going to fall off from frostbite." Ike frowns in disbelief.

"Try in between the sofa cushions," I say standing up when she leaves the room before I finish my sentence. I walk in the living room to see her feeling in between the cracks of the cushions quickly. "Where are you going?" I ask a little left out.

"Christmas dinner with my boss and a few coworkers," my dad explains a few feet away. He looks bundled yet still professional.

"Christmas dinner?" I furrow my brow a little dejected and frown.

"Found them!" my mom exclaims holding them up before shoving them harshly onto Ike's hands. She hurries over to the door and looks at me. "Why aren't you ready?" she eyes me angrily.

I take a step back. "I didn't know I was going," I mumble not really wanting to go.

"Well get your coat. It's a family dinner," she scolds and before I know it I'm spurting out an excuse.

"I can't. I promised I'd go to Stan's white elephant party. I already told him I'd go," I lie and cross my fingers behind my back. She looks skeptical.

"When is it? Kyle, you're making this so difficult," she says and shakes her head.

"It's in an hour. I wouldn't be able to make it if I went to the dinner," I say smiling softly to make her ease off.

She looks about ready to argue when she looks at her watch and shouts. She grabs her coat off the rack and starts rushing Ike and dad out the door. "I don't have time to argue about this. Fine. Don't be home too late then. Have a good time. The number's on the fridge if you need to call us. Hurry up Gerald!"

Dad sighs and pats my arm before shutting the door leaving me in my lonely, quiet house. I still hear my mom yelling at my dad through the door and stand awkwardly alone in my living room. Looking around I feel somewhat abandoned as the clock ticks slowly in the fading light of the sun.

Slowly I start to meander into my kitchen to see my cell phone buzzing. I pick it up and blankly read it.

_Merry Christmas and a Happy Chanukah_

I can't pull my eyes away for some reason and just sit down at the table just staring at my phone. Before I know it my stomach jabs and my face contorts in pain as I crouch down out of my chair. On the floor I take a few breaths when the pain subsides and can't help but chuckle. I suppose my achy stomach does serve a purpose; getting my guilt across.

I stand up using the table as support and start walking around looking for something quick and easy to wrap up for the party. I wander upstairs and start rummaging through my room.

"I never realized how much crap I have," I grumble and toss aside so many useless items I know I would be embarrassed to give away as a gift.

As time starts ticking by I feel myself getting frustrated and rub a hand over my hat nearly making it fall off my head.

"Isn't there something I can take?" I growl frustrated and plop on my bed with a huff. The clock on my nightstand reads 7:56.

I feel ready to just give up and spend the night alone as bad as that sounds when my eyes catch on a brown rectangle on my bookshelf. It's a boring little book that's nothing special; Moby Dick. I've owned it since the seventh grade and it just sits collecting dust on my bookshelf but when I look at it at that instant I think back to the first time Wendy came in my room.

She went through my whole bookshelf to my dismay and became really giddy upon seeing that book. It didn't make any difference to me but somehow I found myself wrapping it before I could register that I'd decided to take it to the party.

Walking quickly down the street with a cheaply wrapped blue square under my arm I try to make my way to Stan's house without any problems. Too bad for me he lives a good distance away. Along the way I slipped a couple of times nearly tearing a corner off the wrapping paper and getting my butt and jacket wet to my displeasure.

I arrive at Stan's house at nearly 8:30 and ring the doorbell. I could hear the hustle and bustle of all the people having a good time and my stomach churned uncomfortably. The aspirin I took didn't seem to be working.

The door finally opened and I came face to face with Cartman. Suddenly I frowned.

"What do you want?" he asks and I grip the present under my arm.

"I'm here for the party," I say as cheerful as I can before the door flies closed blowing the smile off my face.

It takes a few seconds before I hear some arguing behind the door. I can hear Cartman's irritated squeal when the door opens again and I see Stan glaring. He immediately puts on a smile seeing me in his doorway and opens it for me.

"You made it," he grins excited as I walk inside. He shuts it behind me as I look around at all the people in his house. There's Christmas decorations everywhere making me seem a little out of place but I'm used to it by now. "Let me take that," he says and I turn around to see his hand extended.

"Oh, sure," I mumble and hand my pathetic excuse of a gift to him. He doesn't even bat an eyelash at its appearance. "Sorry about that. I told Cartman to stay away from the door," he laughs in apology and we start heading into his kitchen where the gifts are being kept.

"No problem. Why'd you invite him anyway?" I can't help but ask when I can actually hear over the music and talking in the quieter, empty kitchen. Stan places the present on the table with the dozens of others before leaning against the counter and looking back at me.

"As an apology for bringing his car back the way it was."

I raise an eyebrow and breathe through my lips when the smell of gingerbread and sweets smothers me. "What happened to the car?"

He averts his eyes with a nervous smile and I feel like he doesn't want to tell me. He does though.

"When you slammed the door something broke and now he can't seem to get it to stay closed."

I gawk and can't help but laugh. He throws a candy cane at me and I put my arm up with a smile. He smiles back. "It's not funny, dude."

"I know. It's not funny," I say but a few more laughs get through before Stan rolls his eyes.

Suddenly Bebe pops her head in and we both look over at her in unison. "Hey Stan, Wendy needs you to—Oh, hey Kyle!" she stops midsentence when she notices me. Her grin practically splits her face and I smile awkwardly.

"Hey Bebe. How are you?" I try to be polite but in reality Bebe is hard to get along with. She always flirts with me and tries to squeeze my ass. I used to be able to hold a conversation with her but now it's nearly impossible.

"I'm great. Merry Christmas—or Chanukah or whatever," she smiles and stands up straight with a slight blush on her face. I wonder silently to myself what kind of eggnog Stan is serving when I see her using the wall for balance.

"You too," I say and leave little wiggle room to continue the conversation longer. She's quiet for a moment just staring at me before looking back over at Stan almost as if wondering what she had come in here for. It clicks abruptly and she snaps her fingers.

"Right. Wendy needs you to put a reef above the mantle. It fell and she can't reach it." Stan glances back between me and Bebe before moving towards the door.

"Okay. Um, I'll be right back in a minute. Don't go anywhere," he says with an awkward smile when Bebe puts her hands on the back of his shoulders guiding him into the noisy living room. The shutter door shuts with a few sways before I'm left in the kitchen alone. I had done a backtrack to my house an hour ago; it was no different than being alone in my kitchen except for the fact that mine didn't smell like Willy Wonka's factory. I grimace and take off my coat and gloves folding them over the back of a chair.

Hesitantly I head out towards the front door and the stairs. It smells like cinnamon and has streams of garland wrapped up the railing. I finger it lightly and it's soft. Bored I peer into the spare living room which consists of a few pieces of furniture, a fireplace, and some lamps. There's a group of kids mingling so I figure I can go in and wish them a Merry Christmas or something.

When I walk in there one person stands out more than anyone else; who can miss his orange sweatshirt?

"Kenny!" I hold up my hand and he looks up just long enough for Heidi to escape the mistletoe he's hanging over her head.

"Hey! You made it," he says in his usual muffled voice. He pushes past a few people and gives me a side-hug. "I didn't think you were going to come at all tonight."

I shrug and can smell eggnog on his breath. I can tell it's going to be an interesting night. "Yeah," I smile awkwardly. "I did the best I could to get here on time." I look at him to see he's smiling and I notice where his attention is. I gaze up confused until I see he's holding the mistletoe above me.

In a panic I quickly shove him away and he starts laughing, I think at the horrified look on my face. "That's not funny, Kenny!" I protest in embarrassment and he shakes his head.

"Sorry, sorry."

Trying to poise myself together again I uncomfortably start the conversation on a different road. "How many people have you gotten to kiss you with that anyway?"

He straightens. "Three."

"That's three more than I thought you'd get," I mutter and he looks appalled making me smile. "I'm just kidding. I'm sure there's at least five girls out there who wouldn't be bothered kissing you."

"And one guy," he grins making me looked shocked at him.

He laughs and ruffles my hat making me glare and fix it. "I can joke too."

"Yeah, yeah. I didn't even know you could afford to come to one of these parties," I point out and move to stand close to the fire. It starts to burn my hands but it distracts me from the burn in my stomach. I hide a wince.

"It's like a small garage sale to me," he explains moving next to me. "I wrap up a broken radio and come home with a used iPod or something."

I give him a look saying I disapprove and he rolls his eyes. "I know, _Captain Conscience_," he jokes and sticks his hands in front of the fire. "But when I see an opportunity for something nice and free I take it."

"I'm just not going to comment about it then," I say and hear something crash followed by a few curses in the living room but don't move.

"I think the tree fell over," Kenny giggles and I focus on the fire.

"Probably."

He looks at me from the side and takes a step away from the fire place. "Damn. That's too hot for me. How can you stand it?"

I don't look at him, just keep staring. "I like it," I lie.

"You're nuts, dude," he says and starts glancing back towards the other room where all the excitement is going on. The people start leaving the fireside room but I don't want to. He starts to lean towards the exit.

I notice he's not sure if he should wait for me or not so I stick my hands really close to the fire practically touching it one last time before turning around giving Kenny the signal that I'm ready to leave.

We walk into the other room to see ornaments on the floor and Butters and Tweek sweeping the glass up with napkins.

"What happened?" Kenny asks leaving my side in amusement and starts walking over to Jimmy.

"I'm n-n-not sure," Jimmy says dragging on his words like usual. He has a Santa hat on and bells on his crutches. "Stan just bumped into the tree and all the ornaments fell off."

"What the hell did he do that for?" Kenny laughs and steps over an ornament Bebe picks up.

"He probably took a shot of Bebe's eggnog," I mumble and she looks up at me with a lopsided grin and rosy cheeks. I smile politely back before leaning down and helping Butters with a particularly large piece of glass.

"Gee thanks Kyle," he chimes and I smile.

"No problem." I reach down to scoop up a pile of glass when Tweek flips out.

"Gah! I scratched my finger!" he yells and I jolt cutting my hand open on the glass. I recoil and grimace gripping my hand.

"Oh Kyle," Butters exclaims and places his napkin down. I look up at him quickly before any eyes start to land on me.

"It's just a scratch," I say quickly and stand up. "Bebe can you help Butters a second?" I ask and before she can answer I make my way towards the kitchen. I get through the door and shut my eyes gripping my hand tighter.

"Fuck!" I scowl and lean forward. I hold it for a good ten seconds before leaning back up with a long breath. "At least it's better than my sto—Aah!" I cut off with a yell seeing Stan at the garbage can dumping some broken ornaments and statues from a nativity. He gives me a strange, confused look before glancing at my hand. His eyes get large.

"Oh my God, dude!" he comes closer and hovers tensely over me. "What happened to your hand?"

I keep my heartbeat down and stare at him with large eyes like a deer in the headlights. I feel a lump of nervousness in my throat unsure if he heard me. He blinks confused at my silent stupor before pulling me over to the sink. He turns the water on and sticks my hand under.

"That's a lot of blood," he mutters quietly to himself and I just watch stupidly as the water drips over my palm and pink swirls down the drain.

"I was cleaning glass," I say brainlessly and look up at him. He doesn't look at me and turns the water off. Getting a white dishtowel out he starts dabbing my hand to get a better look.

"The cut's not that deep. You must just be a squirter, drama queen," he smiles apprehensively and I stare back before glancing down at my hand. He's right; there's barely any break in the skin at all, not to mention it's very shallow.

"Hang on; I'll get a band aid."

"No," I protest and he stops glancing at me curiously. I hold my hand with the dishtowel. "It's not that bad."

His nose scrunches lightly. "You should still put something on it as a precaution—"

"You're doing it again," I mutter and he stops instantly. Stan doesn't move before biting the side of his lip. I dab my hand quickly and keep my head down intent on focusing on my hand. "You need to stop doing that; it freaks me out," I say daring a glance at his guilty face.

He shifts his feet. "Sorry. I didn't mean to start—sorry," he deadpans awkwardly and looks for something to do. He moves to walk toward the stairs but turns and starts heading for the living room. "I'll just finish cleaning up in there then."

"Okay." He leaves and I take off the cloth to see the bleeding has basically stopped. I let out a trembling breath and place my hands on my quivering knees at almost being discovered. No more. I can't let it slip over something so stupid. My stomach does a flip and the burning turns into a stab nearly making me lose balance.

"It's not getting worse," I mutter to calm myself and stand up to get some ice. The smell of treats makes it harder to get to that side of the room but I manage and place a cube to my forehead.

"You're fine," I find myself chanting like a spell under my breath. The sound of the door to the living room snaps me out of my stupor and my eyes dart to Tweek coming in to throw more glass away.

We make eye contact and it's weird.

"Hey," I say and smile weakly hoping to seem casual. He twitches and his eye shuts almost painfully.

"Gah! I'm sorry Kyle," he says in his usual strained voice. I notice he's trying hard not to look at my hand and I squeeze it with my other.

"It's fine. You didn't mean to make me jump."

He fidgets and starts pouring glass into the trashcan. I roll a piece of ice around my mouth just watching him with slight interest. Without warning I suddenly blurt out, "How'd Stan bump into the tree?"

He twitches his left arm and sets the napkin on the counter before looking at me; he resembles a Chihuahua and I try to keep serious and not let a smile squeeze through. Just watching Tweek seems to calm my previous wave of panic down to a simmer.

"We were talking and – augh – he just jumped and hit the tree," he explains with a few convulsions here and there.

"What were you talking about?"

He blinks unevenly again. "Coffee."

"Coffee?" I mutter perplexed.

"Yeah…"

"That's it?" I ask a bit bored by his explanation. Tweek shakes his head quickly and wrings at his shirt.

"Huh." I thought it would have been something a little more surprising but I guess knowing Tweek he could have made Stan jump. My eyes look down at my wounded hand; he definitely could have made him jump. "Well thanks…I guess," I mumble and we both look at the door when Stan comes back in quickly with some more glass. The room is loud again and there is a bit more excitement in their voices. Stan dumps the glass very sloppy into the garbage and turns to me and the table.

"Hey," he starts a bit breathless. I can tell he's been running around a lot tonight. His eyes flicker briefly to Tweek. "Can you guys help stick these nametags on the gifts?" he asks and pulls out a bunch of little squares from a drawer. He hands a few to me and Tweek and just starts randomly sticking them on presents.

I look down and see Red's name at the top of the list. I stick it on a green square two feet in front of me. The next is Cartman and I visibly wince. Stan glances at me curiously but continues to keep placing them on the gifts quickly regardless.

I stick his name on Kenny's gift and hope Kenny wasn't joking when he said he'd just wrapped garbage. I finish off the tags when the second from the last is Stan's name and I stop unsure of what gift to put it on. Noticing mine still hasn't had a tag on it I smile to myself and reach out to place his name on my stupid book.

Tweek's hand beats me to it with the worst possible name ever; Wendy. I grit my teeth silently but Tweek doesn't notice and finishes off his tags before picking up a few and trying to carry them into the living room with Stan.

I sigh and stick Stan's on a red package.

When we move into the living room with all the gifts everyone gets quieter and becomes interested in what present they're going to receive. "Really Tweek? Really?" I grumble to myself quietly and stack a bunch of gifts carefully on the table.

When all the presents are accounted for Stan stands on a chair and collects himself. He takes a breath then smiles and I back off pulling Tweek with me. "Everyone! Hey listen up!" A few heads turn his direction but for the most part people continue what they're doing.

"A little help?" he looks expectantly at Kenny. Kenny abruptly sticks his fingers in his mouth and out emits a loud whistle. I wince and the volume decreases by over half. Stan waits a moment before standing up tall again. "Thanks. Alright so now that you're all paying attention I'd like to get this White Elephant party moving. On the table on my left is all the gifts everyone wrapped. There's a nametag for everyone here. If you'd all come over to the table I'd like you to grab the present with your name on it. Don't open it yet though," he explains and is nearly knocked off the chair halfway through the instructions. Everyone raids the table and I stand back with Tweek just waiting for the majority of the crowd to disperse before going for my present.

When there's barely anyone at the table I go up and find my gift in a small brown rectangle. I pick it up and turn to see all the guests waiting expectantly for Stan's orders. Without further ado he smiles. "Go ahead."

The room became cluttered with the noise of tearing paper as all the kids eagerly unwrapped their gifts. Stan got down from his chair and walked over to me with his own gift. He raises his eyebrows.

"Ready?"

"Hurry up slow poke," I joke calmly already tearing my own. With all the wrapping paper off I can't help but want to laugh at my gift. "Three copies of _Time Cop _for eighteen dollars."

Stan blanches at his gift and I lean over curiously grabbing my side. "What'd you get?" I ask and slowly start to grin. "Hello Kitty Island Adventure."

Rubbing the side of his head Stan looks off to the side embarrassed. "God damn it Butters."

"That's not that bad of a gift," I try to console him but it comes out sounding sarcastic.

"I always wanted this. Maybe you could come over sometime and we can play it together," I scoff at his comment and hold out my gift to him.

"Then we can watch _Time Cop _three different times."

He laughs lightly and looks out at all his guests who are either thrilled with what they received or put on their polite smiles and will go sell their gift later on eBay or something. I notice Stan's attention is on something across the room and I follow it. My eyes end up snagging on purple and red by the tree. Wendy and Bebe are opening their gifts together. I really didn't care to see Wendy's reaction to my gift; I just figured she would take it like it is.

When all the paper is gone she surprises me and stares in wonder at the book in her hands. Bebe looks curious but once she sees it her interest is gone. It's awkward when her eyes glance up randomly and come in contact with mine. I don't even know how she knew where I was.

I look away quickly embarrassed by her overreaction to my book and notice Stan's eyes can't move off of her. He has a strange blank expression and I can't pinpoint what he's thinking. Before I can ask my stomach does another flip and I jerk to the side removing Stan's attention from Wendy back onto me.

My heartbeat quickens again as his curious eyes scan my face.

"Bathroom," is all I can manage to say and take off out of the room leaving my dvds in Stan's care as I shove them at his chest.

"Shit, shit, shit. Fuckin' shit!" I throw open the bathroom door as quickly as possible ready to lurch when the door comes in contact with something hard. A loud thud is heard when I fall to the ground and whoever is in the bathroom at the moment. I bite my lip as I spit a few drops of blood onto Stan's tiled floor.

Slowly I look over gripping my stomach with all I have and stare shocked at a boy in an orange parka slouched against the bottom of the sink. He has blood dripping near my hand and smudged on the door.

I can't manage to make my voice work and just stare at my friend and what I'd caused. "K-Kenny?"

He glances down at the drops of blood by my hand and says something that nearly makes my heart stop before his eyes glaze off. "Is that your blood or mine?"

As I slowly start to pull it together the reality of it hits me and I lean my head defeated against the side of the cool bathtub. Kenny's lifeless body sits motionless, his eyes still on the bloody tiled floor.

"I'm a bastard…"

ABCDEFGHIJKLMN

"Where's Wendy?" I ask urgently to Bebe. She's too smashed to give me any information and I groan in frustration and quickly look for Stan.

"Stan!" I yell and come up quickly behind him and spin him around. He smiles but looks a little confused at my sudden action dragging him out of a conversation with Token.

"Woah. What's up? You're—"

I cut him off.

"Kenny died in your bathroom. Where's Wendy?" He blinks perplexed and stumbles back.

"He's dead? How—"

"I smashed his head against the bathroom door. Sorry. You should probably deal with that before someone else needs to take a shit. Have you seen Wendy anywhere?" I ask and the words jumble out of my mouth so fast that I can tell he's straining to catch it all so I don't have to repeat it.

"Oh – um ok. I'll get on that. Why do you need to know where Wendy is though—" He's interrupted yet again by the eruption in my gut and I nearly put all my weight on his shoulders to support myself.

"Do you know where she is or not?" I grit out and accidentally glare at him as my face scrunches to bear the feeling churning inside of me like a cyclone. Stan's befuddled at my reaction and his forehead knits together.

Obediently but hesitantly he points towards his screen. "She's outside," he fades off and I'm out the door before I can utter the whole fraise "thank you."

As I stumble gracelessly out the door I see Wendy sitting on Stan's deck in the light of his porch lamp with her purse in her lap and he cell phone in her hand. The slam of the screen door jars her from her texting and she jumps looking back at me. I plop down on the snow in front of her on my knees and try to ignore the surprised expression on her face. I'm too much of a wreck to care.

"Kyle? What's wrong with you? You practically gave me a," she doesn't get time to finish because I'm blurting out like an idiot in a blind panic.

"He saw," I exclaim trying to keep my voice down so no one would hear. I don't think they could anyway; it's too loud inside. She blinks confused.

"Who saw? Saw what?" she asks trying to understand why I'm breathing heavy and kneeling in a pile of snow. "Are you okay?"

"Kenny saw Wendy! What am I gonna do? He fuckin' saw it," I blubber in a panic. Her eyes widen and I look around to see if anyone is by the windows. I can barely register what's going on around me till Wendy shuts her phone loudly.

"Are you sure?" she asks calmer than I thought she would; or maybe that's just in comparison to my reaction.

I nod frantic hoping to get some sort of advice. "Two people; that's two more people than I intended to tell and it's all my fault again." I burry my face in my hands angry at myself for giving myself away so stupidly.

"Are you absolutely positive? You're not just jumping to conclusions are you?" she asks and I stop to think. Slowly and quietly I take my face out of my hands and stare at her with large eyes. My brow knits together and I look down for a moment.

"I…I think so. I'm pretty sure," I say now sounding not so sure of myself. She looks at me patiently and stuffs her phone in her purse.

"Where is he?" She looks about ready to get up and go ask him but I stop her before she can even stand.

"He's dead."

She looks really confused now. I can tell where she's going with this. "_Kyle_! You didn't!" I try to sit up but end up falling on my ass.

"No I didn't kill him on purpose! He was dead before I could stop it," I defend myself and am a bit offended she'd think I'd kill my friend over something so petty. He'd just come back the next day anyway.

She relaxes a bit. "So what do you want me to do about it?"

I'm silent not quite sure what I expected from her. "I – I don't know. I just thought, well, I mean…I don't know! Something. You usually have good ideas." I regret the words immediately as she suddenly looks like I just gave her a gold medal. "_Sometimes_," I clarify and try to stand up.

"You can only wait right now. See his reaction tomorrow," she tells me looking up as I loom over her.

"What if he tells Stan or Cartman or something?" I ask nervously.

She doesn't even bat an eyelash. "Just get to him first."

I'm silent again before wiping snow off my pants. I'm freezing now that the adrenaline has died down and have a huge urge to get back to that fire. A part of me won't let me move though, too afraid of some unknown aspect of going back inside. Wendy tears me from my own foreboding thoughts.

"I like the present," she says quietly and I glance down at her. She's smiling and holding the book in her hands.

"Okay?" I ask trying to pretend to not know what she's talking about. She giggles and kicks some snow at me. I shout and bend down to wipe the snow off the side of my pants when she gives me a one armed hug. I freeze.

She immediately pulls away and stands up. "Merry Christmas," she says cheerfully as she leaves me standing alone and baffled outside of the craziest White Elephant party I've ever went to.

I scratch my head confused and try to get the smell of her disgusting perfume away from my face. Shaking my head I sit back down on the cold porch and look up at the sky.

"I don't know how he puts up with her."

**A/N: Not KylexWendy. Just going to say that again. Next chapter Stan's POV so look forward to it **


	10. Suspicions SPOV

(SPOV)

It's been nearly a week since my Christmas party and Kyle has already reverted back to trying to avoid me for some reason. To my surprise though, he didn't seem to be avoiding Wendy. She had even ditched me on New Years because Kyle called her over to talk about some problem he's been having.

I couldn't help but feel jealous of Wendy and I think it was showing. I was snapping at her more and more but I couldn't seem to control it. I was just in a bad mood every time I saw her. Every time I saw Kyle, though, I was completely cheery and nice. For a while I didn't know why I did that; treat my girlfriend like my enemy and my secluded friend like a celebrity. It finally clicked when the New Year rolled around; I didn't want to scare him off.

The last time I yelled at him he went back to avoiding me (1). I wanted so badly to question him about this mysterious problem he was having but couldn't bring the nerve to ask for fear I would see less of him. I could only hope he would open up to me with whatever it was so I could help him. I really wanted to help him.

I scratched my head in frustration and waited outside the gym when the bell rang. The other boys flooded out the locker room slowly as the campus was doused in kids ready to go home. My eyes scanned for a familiar pattern of orange and green. To my surprise I found extra orange in the form of a hoodie.

Kenny had his arm dropped around Kyle's shoulder and they seemed to be having a serious conversation by the look on Kyle's face. I couldn't tell from Kenny since his head's facing away from me and I was too far to hear what they were talking about.

I mentally sigh see Kenny again so soon. Kyle had been hanging with Kenny a lot since school started again. I didn't think it's weird since Kenny has been in our inner circle of friends since preschool but the sudden urge Kyle had to spend with him gave my stomach a twist. If he had been hanging with Wendy at school as much as Kenny then I would have gone crazy with suspicion I suppose so I guess Kyle and Kenny weren't such an odd combination.

Slowly I extend my arm up in the air and call out. "Hey guys!"

Kyle's head shoots up and when his eyes meet mine his expression changes immediately. He looks guarded. Kenny shoves off Kyle quickly and turns to face me with his typical goofy smile.

"Hey Stan. What's up?" he asks cheery with a light tone. I smile and approach them gripping the side of my backpack. The sudden feeling of nervousness trickles up my neck for some unknown reason. I shift my feet and mentally scold myself when I stumble around my words. These were my best friends; what did I have to be anxious about?

"You guys heading home?" I end up asking as casually as I can, my eyes flickering between them.

"No. We're actually going to get some pizza," Kenny replies and looks back at Kyle for confirmation. Kyle smiles hesitantly and nods.

"Great. That sounds like fun," I deadpan stupidly.

"Sure. Do you wanna come with us?" Kenny asks and the tension in the pit of my stomach lifts. Kyle quickly glances back at Kenny with something unreadable in his eyes.

_What was I thinking? They wouldn't tell me to buzz off_, I think relieved and start walking towards the school gates.

"Yeah!" I stop realizing my voice is too loud. Calmer I speak, "Yeah – yeah. I can definitely go."

"Great. Now we're like the three amigos, huh Kyle?" He grins and I smile. Kyle bites his lip and tries to focus on something other than me. My brow furrows but I become too distracted by Kenny to think about it further.

"How was your New Years anyway?" He pulls at the strings on his jacket and I shove my hands into my pockets. I shrug.

"Just hung out with a few people. Jason, Token; you know. How was yours?"

"I got wasted," he laughs and I roll my eyes playfully.

"That doesn't sound like a surprise. Getting drunk off your dad's liquor alone in your room doesn't sound very thrilling though," I remark rubbing under my nose.

He blinks confused. "I wasn't alone New Years – ouch!" I stare as Kyle proceeded to elbow Kenny hard in the ribs. He rubs his side before glaring at Kyle. "Dude, what?" he snaps irritated and cradles his chest confused.

I eye Kyle curiously and glance back at Kenny. "You had more people over? How come I didn't hear anything about that?"

"Kyle told me you were busy. I didn't know you were free," he states and glances at Kyle.

My eyes widen. "Wait, Kyle ditched me to hang with you?" I ask confused now eyeing my best friend who seemed to be interested in everything except the conversation. Kenny tries to defend Kyle without making me angry.

"I would have asked you but I was told you were busy doing your own thing."

My smile falls. "I thought you were hanging with Wendy," I state and look at Kyle for affirmation. He glances and me and shrugs blandly. I am not quite satisfied with his answer.

"She came over too. Don't blame Kyle, dude. I made them come over to make sure I didn't take my mom's keys and go anywhere. It was really brief and just for safety reasons. They were out doing their own thing before I made them babysit me." I'm silent and he nudges at me teasingly. "Come on Stan."

I raise an eyebrow and try to ignore the doubt filling my stomach as I try to steer the conversation on a different subject. "Alright…So are we going to Shakey's or that new pizza place they just built where the old Wal-Mart used to be?"

"Shakey's. Always Shakey's," Kenny explains. Suddenly Kyle seems to jump back into the conversation with a subject I've hated lately.

"What about Wendy?" Kyle chimes and I blink confused.

"What _about_ Wendy?" I respond and notice he's not looking at me again. He keeps his vision ahead of him as we walk down the steps out of the confines of the school.

"Don't you guys usually walk home together?"

"Oh," Kenny fades off and there's a sullen look to him now. "Right! I completely forgot about that. I wouldn't have asked you to come if I knew that. I'm sorry man," he says and puts his hands on his cheeks overdramatically. It looks a little staged to me but I try to force my smile up. I feel like I'm being kicked out of the loop or something.

"I can tell her to go home by herself. One day won't kill her," I reply unconsciously taking a step closer to them.

"You're going to make her walk alone?" Kyle raises his eyebrow and I feel a little downtrodden that he's practically taking her side.

"It's not that far Kyle," I defend and glance between them. They stop now. "It's not like I'm her dad or anything. I don't have to watch after her every second of the day."

He shifts his feet and looks at a car driving by. "I know. I just think something short notice would make her mad. She's like that, you know."

I scoff. _Since when would you know what she's like?_

"She can deal."

They share a look before glancing back at me. "Alright," Kyle agrees with a shrug that makes my stomach sink. Why is he acting so apathetic about me today? I give him a suspicious look knowing there's a catch judging by his tone. "You can tell her then," he says and points behind me to the tree we always wait under to walk home.

Wendy is standing staring over at us. When I make eye contact with her she smiles happily. I wave slowly and put a small smile reluctantly on my face not really excited to see her.

I turn back towards them when I see her walking over to us. That nervous feeling is seeping back in again and I take a big breath. I know Wendy hates when I spring anything on her but I'm hoping she won't try to play the guilt trip card.

"Hey guys," Wendy says as she pulls me down to kiss my cheek.

"Hey," Kenny greets and Kyle nods in acknowledgment.

"What's going on; are you guys having a little meeting over here?" she jokes. I hear Kyle let out a puff of air through his nose and he looks bored with this conversation. I bite the inside of my cheek completely baffled at his response to Wendy. He seemed to strain to even tolerate her so how could he tell her his super problem that he won't even mention to me? I couldn't understand. Did he like her or not?

Smiling down at her as best I can I pet down her hair hoping it will soften the situation. "No we're just hanging out." She beams up at me and I look away for a moment before coating my voice sweetly. "Funny thing with hanging out." Kenny tries to hide a laugh at my lame attempt to open her up to me basically saying 'Can I ditch you?'

"Kenny just asked if I could go to Shakey's with them and I said I would." I laugh awkwardly and expect her to pout and pull at me to walk her home but she does the opposite and smiles wider.

"That sounds like fun. Can I come too?"

A tug comes from inside my stomach as I want to do something with Kyle alone for a change. Silently I wonder if this is how Kyle feels about Wendy sometimes. She can be smothering. As kindly as I can I try to make it sound like she would only be a hindrance.

"It's just a guy thing," I say scratching the back of my head and she blinks confused. "You'd just get bored. Plus it wasn't even my idea; you'd have to ask them."

She turns her attention to Kyle and Kenny hopefully. "Can I come?"

Apparently Kenny doesn't get my message. "Sure. The more the merrier."

My smile falls and Wendy pulls me closer. "Yay! I haven't had Shakey's in forever."

I make a stiff notion at Kenny and he smiles apologetically. I sigh guessing there's no way to tell her I want to hang with just my friends without sounding like a dick.

"The more the merrier," I mumble listlessly under my breath.

OPQRSTUVWXYZ

Shakey's only has a few other people when we walk in. It's no surprise really; most people only come here to celebrate something.

We take a booth next to the arcade area knowing it won't be loud since there are no little kids around. Wendy takes the aisle seat across from Kyle leaving me scrunched in by the wall across from Kenny. He grins when we take our seats and sticks his hand out.

"What kind of pizza do you want?" he asks as we fork over some money.

The table is silent as I expect Kyle or someone to order but no one does. All eyes are on me for some reason and I fidget confused. "Pepperoni?" I say hoping this is what they were expecting me to say.

"Pepperoni sounds good," Kyle says focusing on Kenny. I notice Wendy is giving him a strange look and I lightly pinch her leg. She jumps and smiles awkwardly.

"Yeah," she agrees and pinches my arm back humorously.

"Alright. Be back in a minute." And with that Kenny is gone. The table becomes engulfed in silence again and I suddenly regret accepting Kenny's invitation to eat. I shift and smile assuming I have to be the one to get the conversation rolling at the quiet demeanor of my girlfriend and best friend.

"This is kind of fun, isn't it? I don't remember the last time we all came to Shakey's together."

Kyle props his chin in his palm resting his elbow on the table. He smiles almost halfhearted at me. "Nope. Can't say I recall any time either."

"Maybe eighth grade?" Wendy offers trying to think back herself.

"And last time Cartman was here," Kyle grumbles and I can't help but laugh.

"Yeah. Didn't you stick straws in your nose and pretend you were a walrus to get Cartman mad?" I joke and Kyle shuts his eyes tightly trying to forget.

"And then he shoved me telling me to stop making fun of his weight and I landed face first on the ground. I had my first bloody nose here…the stain's still on the floor," he groans and we look over to see a now browning spot over by the tables.

Wendy giggles. "I remember that. You totally freaked," she says to me. I frown.

"Well he was gushing blood like a sink. What else could I have done?"

"Avenge me," Kyle says with a stupid smile and I shake my head.

"I avenged you two weeks after when that soccer ball hit him in the face in PE," I explain.

"That wasn't on purpose," he argues and I straighten up.

"It could have been."

Suddenly Kenny appears a pitcher of soda and fountain cups in his hands. He sets them on the table with a clack. Kyle gets out of the booth to let him in.

"I hope you guys don't mind Coke."

Wendy shakes her head and passes a cup and a straw to me. I take it and hold up my straw looking at Kyle. "Are you sure you don't need another one?"

He glowers and tells me to shut up. We all get our drinks ready and Kenny gets the conversation started again. He's always been good at making awkward situations deflate. I guess it was a good idea to come after all; as long as Kenny is here.

Pretty soon our pizza comes and I realize at that moment how hungry I am when the smell hits me. I take a piece and take a big bite. Warmth fills my mouth; I forgot how good Shakey's was.

Kenny is halfway through a story when I see Wendy whisper something towards Kyle. It's nothing really but it's enough to catch my attention. I glance over and notice Kyle hasn't even finished one piece of pizza. Wendy's glaring at him for some reason and not even listening to Kenny.

I don't realize I'm staring till the words stop flowing from Kenny's mouth and his hand shoots in front of my face. I jerk back and look back towards Kenny with large eyes.

"Dude, I know you're enamored by Wendy's good looks but could you stop staring at her for a moment when I'm talking to you?" His tone is light and good-humored. I fidget embarrassed seeing everyone's eyes on me.

"Sorry," is all that comes out of my mouth idiotically. Wendy slowly giggles and pats my hand.

"I don't mind. I'm used to it by now," she says with sugar sweet words making Kenny tease and go "Aaaw".

I kick him under the table.

"That's so sweet of you Stanley," he says not even fazed by the kick to the shin and nudges Kyle who I can't help but notice how stiff he is. He looks over at Kenny before slowly looking at me. I try to brush off Kenny's stupid comments and ignore Kyle and Wendy's weird behavior.

"Shut up," I say embarrassed and thoroughly tired of Kenny's teasing.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I hear Kyle mutter to Kenny touching his shoulder lightly. Kenny blinks and quickly exits the booth to let Kyle through. "Sorry," he says glancing at us before he leaves to go down the hall to the bathroom.

Kenny slowly scoots into the center of his side and gets back to eating his slice of pizza. I sit, my eyes still where Kyle disappeared down the small hall leading towards the restrooms when Kenny starts to tease me again.

"I think Kyle felt your awkwardness across the table," he laughs and Wendy giggles. "He stole my idea to bolt before it suffocated him."

I manage a chuckle and pick up my piece of pizza before deciding to place it back on my plate. I wasn't too hungry anymore. Wendy notices this and smiles picking at a few pieces of pepperoni.

"You're not going to finish that?"

I glance at her confused. "No."

"That's a first. You always tell me that you can scarf a whole pizza faster than your friends," she states matter-of-factly.

I shrug and watch as Kenny finishes his fourth slice. He's probably loving this; pizza is a huge treat at his house.

"He can't out eat me," Kenny replies going for another slice. "No one can do that."

I concede and rest my arms against the table top. "I guess I can't argue on that. You can out eat anybody. But that's not our fault. You barely get any food at home so of course you can out eat us."

"What can I say? Some of us are just born luckier than others."

He smiles and takes another large bite. The longer we sit and talk the happier I feel. Somehow hanging out like this takes the edge off whatever mixed feelings I've been having. I can't help but think how much I miss spending time after school with my friends like we used to in elementary school.

Before too long I take note of the emptiness next to Kenny and my thoughts drift back to Kyle. I glance back at the bathroom curiously to see he hasn't emerged in a long time. While Wendy is in the middle of explaining something dumb Red did I shove at her side.

She stops immediately and looks at me with a bit of irritation. I explain.

"I need to use to bathroom."

She sighs before moving out of the booth and letting me make my way towards the short hallway containing the restrooms. When I get to the end I push open the door rather hard and see Kyle jump and nearly slip on the wet floor. He catches the side of the sink for balance and doesn't look at me till he's sure he won't fall. I stare surprised that my entry jarred him to the point he'd need help balancing.

I take a step inside and let the door shut behind me. Kyle goes back to washing his hands in the sink and sighs.

"Dude there's no need to race to get in here. There's plenty of urinals available," he says and gives me a concerned look. I glance around the bathroom and scoff at his insinuation. Shockingly there's no one else present in here. I suspected he was chatting back here or something. When he moves to get a paper towel he gives me another strange look that I can't pinpoint the emotion behind.

"You okay Stan?"

I nod and lean back against the door. "Yeah. I'm fine." Pausing I tilt my head to the side and glance at him. "Are you constipated?"

Kyle throws the brown towel away and frowns. "What the fuck? No. What makes you think that?"

I look over at him now that he's closer. He looks a bit exhausted and I see he's paler than usual. "Then do you read the newspaper back here or something? You look like shit, dude," I admit blankly.

He shifts his feet and wipes a few beads of sweat from his forehead. "They just don't have an air conditioner back here. It's hotter than hell," he complains.

"Oh," I say raising my eyebrows. It seems fine to me, if not too cold in here.

He leans his shoulder against the towel dispenser and folds his arms. "Well?"

"Well what?" I ask confused.

He motions to the bathroom. "Do you need to pee or did you come back here just to get away from Kenny's over exaggerated and gross stories?" he jokes.

"Both," I lie with a hint of humor in my voice. "Plus Wendy's being a bit too clingy today," I admit reluctantly.

"I know what you mean."

Slowly I look over his face trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. He looks up and notices my possible unease and straightens.

"I mean she can be overbearing sometimes."

That doesn't really make me feel better. Either he's implying Wendy is clingy to him which doesn't seem like the case or he took a shot at insulting my girlfriend. I try to brush it off knowing he didn't mean any real harm by it. Not to mention I was getting a bit aggravated with her lately so I agreed with him.

"I suppose," I try to sound nonchalant about this. "Is that what you've been doing back here then; hiding out?"

I can see his hesitation. He looks like he's about to say something but ends up shaking his head and chuckling.

"That's probably what it looks like, huh?"

"A little," I say with a smile.

"I didn't mean any harm by it. It's just a bit awkward out there."

"So what, you planned on staying in a piss stained pizza bathroom the rest of the day?" I say grinning.

He grips his side again and shrugs. "No. I was just going back out actually."

I roll my eyes. "Right."

"I was," he insists and pushes off the dispenser.

"Uh-huh," I mock and open the door for him. "After you then. We're having a really interesting conversation about Red and her ugly flats."

I see the _excitement _radiating off his face as he makes his way over to the door. "I can't wait to hear about this. That must be why you came back here, huh? To hide out like me," he laughs.

"You catch on quickly."

As Kyle walks by the last sink I notice a puddle of water by his feet but am too late to warn him.

"Hey – watch it!" I yell and extend my arm in a quick warning. He doesn't have enough time to react.

He slips and has nothing to hold on to when I reach out to make sure he doesn't hit his head against the sink. I grab the closest thing I could get my fingers around; it happens to be the arm he always has around his abdomen.

I jerk it away from him and yank him from falling backwards. He lands on unsteady feet, his wrist still in my hand and I sigh with relief.

"Jesus. I thought you were gonna knock yourself out you klutz," I breathe out and slowly straighten up relieved. When I let go of his wrist to rub the side of my head I glance back at him expecting to hear some sarcastic comment and see a smile; I get the exact opposite. His expression and stony appearance sends a wave of unexpected coldness up my spine.

He looks cautious and his face looks strained as if he'd been punched in the gut. His jaw is set tight and I see and unidentified emotion swirling in his eyes that are as big as dinner plates. Even though I can't tell the emotion in his eyes there is an undeniable feeling I can identify on his face; pain.

I slowly withdraw my hand hovering in the air and stare at my friend who seems like standing alone is a task in and of itself.

"Kyle?" I ask hesitantly completely confused. His eyes jolt up to mine quickly and he straightens holding his side with that arm again. My stomach jolts and I recognize this face. I'd seen it before. It's the same face he wore that night I punched him over Wendy. Guilt with a tinge of dread hits me for some unknown reason as if I'd been the one to hurt him again. I couldn't have, I just saved him!

"Kyle –"

Suddenly he snaps at me. "What the fuck, dude?"

I cringe in confusion at this sudden outburst. "What?"

He takes a few breaths and glares at me. "What'd you do that for? Fuck, I think you popped my shoulder out of socket!"

I blink watching Kyle shut his eyes tightly and I feel my knees start to shake a little. "Huh? No I – you were going to fall," I explain stupidly. Kyle quickly shoves past me and exits the bathroom muttering a few curses under his breath.

Two seconds later I'm right behind him. I popped his shoulder out of socket? I didn't think I pulled him that hard. I reach the table and see the confusion on everyone's faces as Kyle starts to gather his things.

"Kyle, wait! I'm sorry," I say but he ignores me. Shit, did I actually do the opposite of what I always try to do around Kyle; I actually hurt him?

"What's going on?" Wendy asks seeing Kyle's scrunched up face.

"Should I take you to the hospital?" I ask wondering if that's what he wants.

Wendy's eyes bug and Kenny's darts between all of us fretfully.

"_Hospital_?" Wendy blurts and reaches out towards Kyle who withdraws from her quickly.

"Hold on a second," I say guilt hitting me like a brick wall as I try to help my best friend out with what I've apparently caused. I grab his free arm and he turns on me jerking it away.

"Stan just stop – you can't – you do more hurt than help, ok? Please, I don't need you making anything worse," he mutters at me before turning around and exiting the restaurant.

Wendy and Kenny stare out the window as Kyle storms down the sidewalk nearly slipping on the snow. I stand in disbelief before his words finally sink in. He thinks I make problems worse. The knot in my stomach makes a permanent home and sinks like an anchor leaving me distraught and miserable.

I look down when I hear rustling beside me and notice Wendy gathering her things together getting ready to leave after Kyle. My mixture of emotions takes an immediate turn and I find myself growing with anger. Kyle thought I, his best friend, only made his problems worse and yet Wendy, someone I thought he hated, could solve all his problems and he could tell all his secrets to?

Wendy scoots out of the booth and starts grabbing her things when irritation hits me finally at Kyle's statement and I grab her arm.

She looks up at me confused. "Can we talk?" I ask and she looks nervous.

"What about Kyle?" her voice comes out unsure. "What did you do?"

"I'll go," Kenny chimes in awkwardly and starts grabbing his stuff. "Maybe pizza wasn't a good idea after all. I'll see you tomorrow Stan," he says before following the same direction Kyle took not a moment ago.

With the mediator gone and my friend now angry at me for something I did on accident I was free to discuss whatever I wanted with my girlfriend.

"Sit down for a minute," I say and plop on Kenny's side of the booth pinching the bridge of my nose and rubbing my face in frustration. I look up and notice she's still standing. When we meet eyes she looks down and slowly takes a seat across from me.

"What?" she finally asks.

I remove my hat and place my face in my hand and my elbow on the table. "I think I've been a bit out of the loop lately," I admit bitterly, hurt and jealousy seeping into my tone that I don't try to mask. "So maybe you can enlighten me on a few things?" I shut my eyes briefly thinking back to Kyle's scrunched up face.

She fidgets. "Like what?"

I look at her dead in the eyes now. "Like what the hell just happened. What just happened back there?" I ask desperately trying to understand.

She doesn't know what to say and stumbles for the right words. "You mean with Kyle? I don't know. He's always like that."

"No he's not," I deny.

"He has since the first day_ I've_ met him," she defends back, her mouth setting in a straight line.

"No – no Wendy. There's obviously something wrong!" I try to explain and she looks uncomfortable. "He just – Kyle just – I don't know but there was something wrong about it."

She eyes me strangely. "Stan, are you sure you just didn't do something to make him upset?"

I shake my head. "No. I just stopped him from falling in the bathroom and popped his shoulder out." Her eyes widen for a brief moment making confusion swirl in me.

"You popped his shoulder out of socket? Well no wonder he's mad! Why did you do that?" she asks and I can't help but feel like I'm being ganged up on today. The guilt starts coming back and I try to smother it below a layer of frustration.

"I didn't mean to. I just grabbed his arm that was around him and yanked so he wouldn't hit his head against the sink. It wasn't even hard enough to do that, I'm sure of it. I've knocked my shoulder out twice and it takes more than that tiny yank." As I explain this I see a mixture of things dance across her face. She silently chews on her bottom lip thinking.

"His arm?" she asks.

"Yeah. That's usually what's connected to a shoulder," I unjustly snap. She doesn't appreciate it. "It was the closest thing to grab so I did it. I don't know how doing that could hurt him. Kyle's tough so that shouldn't have hurt him," I argue trying to convince myself more than her that I couldn't have physically harmed my friend who I sometimes treated like glass. "Besides I apologized for grabbing him so suddenly. His shoulder wasn't the weird part though, Wendy. How he responded was weird. He shouldn't have looked like that from one little tug." I notice she looks flustered now. I lean over and grab her hands and put on the most distressed look I can muster. "Wendy please tell me. Is there something wrong with Kyle? You've got to know. He's been sharing all these secrets with you."

Her eyes flutter and she gives me a pained look and glances down at where we're connected. "Stan," she starts and I feel eager. I'd put aside all my pride and jealousy towards her hoping she would confide in me. I just want to help.

She looks up at me and gently slides her hands out of mine feeling guilty. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you."

It starts to sink under the surface and I sit back in disbelief. "Why not? I want to help! Does it look like I want to cause problems here? I'm going crazy having to second guess how much I know about my own best friend. Apparently he's not as strong as I thought he was and he's been all over the place emotionally lately. He's isolated one day, happy the next, angry, and then back to isolated. How the hell am I supposed to help when I don't even know how to act?"

"You can start by not treating him like one of your football buddies," she chides.

I throw my arms up and plop back against the seat in frustration. She bites her lip.

"I'm sorry Stan. It's not my secret to tell. When – if he's ready he'll tell you himself."

"If? Why won't he just tell me now?" I ask at a loss.

She looks sympathetic and reaches out to touch my hand. "He doesn't want to make you worried."

"He's doing a shitty job then," I pout.

She looks away. "He knows," she admits and I'm a bit surprised. He knows yet he's still carrying on like this? What could make me worry more than this? "You could talk to him about it," she suggests.

"Guys – it's weird. I'll sound all whiney and probably bother him."

She sits back in her seat defeated. "Then I don't know what to tell you."

_You know what to tell me you just won't, _I scowl in my head looking out the window.

I can't argue with that and just blow off some steam sitting across from her and our discarded meal. A few more people enter the building and little kid's laughter is heard contradicting our mood in the back. I cross my arms and stare at the ceiling forebodingly.

"I want you to do something for me then," I say without looking at her, my mind now made up. She gives me a curious glance and I muster up the courage to order this knowing she'll disapprove. "I want you to stop going to see Kyle."

"What?" she asks in complete disbelief. I knew it.

"You guys aren't really friends so it shouldn't be a problem."

She looks at me seemingly panicked. "What about when he needs to talk about his problem? He wants me to help him."

I gape. "Did you see how he just reacted? How he's _been _reacting? Whatever you're doing it's not working."

She frowns and takes a few breaths. "I can help him. Just give us time to –"

"Wendy, have you ever thought about how it's affecting me?" She stops looking confused. I try to explain without feeling like a jerk. "My best friend and girlfriend are holding secret meetings. Not just at Kyle's house but out in public too. Tweek told me at my party that you guys came early in the morning to get coffee. I didn't care that you guys were meeting if it was helping him but then you stopped telling me when and where you're doing these things. You can see why I'd get concerned."

She's surprised. My eyes soften hoping she's surprised at my feelings not getting found out. "I don't really think you guys would fool around behind my back or anything but if this trend keeps up who knows how strained our relationship can get? How mine and Kyle's can get…"

I can see hesitation on her face and frown. "Please Wendy. For me?"

After a moment of silence she reluctantly agrees. I know it's probably not the nicest thing for me to do but Wendy and Kyle meeting behind my back makes me nervous. I don't know what they're talking about and whatever they're doing is making Kyle become distant to me and Wendy want to be around him all the time.

What else am I supposed to think?

OPQRSTUVWXYZ

"Hello?"

I grip the phone awkwardly on my living room sofa as I hear the familiar voice of my friend on the other end.

"Hey Kenny. It's Stan."

"Oh, hey," he chimes and I hear some shuffling in the background. "What's up?"

Shifting in my seat I look out the window at the darkened sky. It had only been a few hours ago that the gathering had gone awry in that stupid booth at Shakey's. Pinching the bridge of my nose I lean my head back and shut my eyes.

"Just, you know, wanted to see how you're doing."

The shuffling stops and I can hear him straighten by the shift in his clothing.

"You mean you wanted to see how Kyle's doing," he corrects me with a slight smile in his voice. I didn't know how he could make something awkward turn lighthearted but I thanked him.

I smile slightly to myself as well. "If you already knew that then why didn't you just answer knowing what I wanted?"

"Because I like to see you suffer?" he responds and the rustling picks up again.

"Thanks." I look up to see Shelly coming from down the hall. She looks mad and motions to the phone. I lip _in a minute _and she shakes her fist. I mentally groan not wanting to get beaten to a pulp by her again. Kenny continues talking through this whole side interaction.

"So Kyle, huh? You're such a brute nearly ripping his arm off," he laughs and I don't appreciate his humor. Glowering I sink further into the sofa.

"Was it that bad?"

He pauses. "Well he's fine now. I had my dad push it back into place. It was pretty funny to watch actually –"

"Shut up!" I cut off his laugh and wince seeing the mental picture of Kenny's violent dad tearing at Kyle's arm. If his reaction was that bad in the bathroom then the guilt was overwhelming now picturing his face from fixing the problem I'd caused. Biting my lip distressed I continue. "That's not funny, Kenny. Why'd you have your dad of all people do that?"

"Hey," he says a bit unhappy that I'd cut his enjoyment short. "You guys see me die all the time I can't help it if seeing something like that evens the playing field."

I disagree with him completely but don't say anything about it. "Why didn't you just take him to the hospital real quick?"

"For something dumb like that?" he asks and I hear something thud. Was he cleaning his room? "I'm not exactly Token you know. Plus Ky didn't want to make a big deal out of it so he let my dad do it."

"He wanted that?" I ask skeptically.

"Like I said, nothing to worry about."

Shelly enters the room again and I turn away holding the phone tightly to my face. I hold up two fingers hoping she'd give me at least two more minutes. She growls and goes back down the hall.

"So you're sure?" I ask one last time to clarify.

He sighs. "Yes, _mom._" I frown hating when they called me that. "His arm's probably sore but he's fine. You can ask him yourself if you want."

"I tried. He hasn't picked up. I think he's a bit mad at me," I say defeated and rub the back of my head.

"I'd be too. But you know what they say; God gave us a spare so he'd still be good to go. You only need one arm to do all the important stuff like writing, pushing a grocery cart, jacking off; things like that."

I grimace. "You're nasty."

"When have I not been?" he counters and stops moving around. I hear him settle down somewhere before continuing on a different note. "So what'd you and Wendy do after, just go home?"

I bite the inside of my cheek not really in the mood to talk about Wendy. "We just talked real quick. Nothing important."

"Oh?" his tone is curious and innocent. "I somehow think you're holding something back."

"I'm not," I lie not wanting to explain to Kenny that'd I'd been letting my best friend and girlfriend hang out without me all the time.

"Come on, tell me! I promise I won't tell anyone important."

"What's that? Sorry Ken, Shelly's gonna kick my ass if I don't get off the phone now. See you at school tomorrow," I exclaim quickly and click off the phone before he has a chance to protest.

Sighing I stretch my legs out and pull my hat over my eyes.

"This is giving me such a headache," I groaned into the quiet living room.

Throughout the next week Kyle had acted pretty normal. He was very withdrawn from me as if he wanted to stay as far as possible while we hung out. It was like he was afraid of me touching him.

I couldn't help but feel guilty and glance at his arm. Despite being injured his arm was relatively fine. I wanted to believe that I'd hurt him but something in the back of my mind wouldn't let me do that. His face obviously had pain etched on it but in PE he managed to throw a football just fine.

For the most part Kyle hung out with Kenny a lot more than I wished he would. It wasn't that I had anything against Kenny but he hung around him more than I did. It felt a little like Kyle was trying to make a point to me; back off.

I didn't enjoy it one bit.

As for Wendy things started to get back to normal between the two of us. She had kept her promise as far as I knew and acted cheery like she used to. Occasionally I'd catch her glancing at Kyle and she would squeeze my hand tighter.

I didn't know what her purpose was with Kyle. Was it like Psychoanalysis? Did he just vent to her and feel better? If so why would it matter who he confided in? For a long time I thought it had to be Wendy because he wasn't attached to her and that would make it easier to confide in her but I ruled that out after another week passed and Kenny spilled a very important secret that made my blood run cold.

A week and a half roughly after the pizza incident Kenny and I were talking when he said he ran into Kyle and Wendy at the park with Clyde. I froze which made him concerned by the uneasy expression I was wearing. It was only then that I'd told him about Wendy not being allowed to hang with Kyle anymore without me knowing about it.

His face turned pale and I could see guilt drip off him like he was covered in it. I suppose he wasn't supposed to tell me and that made me relieved yet at the same time a bit angry.

Why would Wendy do that? Without telling me too! Was the urge to see Kyle more than considering her fretful boyfriend's feelings?

Apparently they were and I couldn't help but grip my chest unsure how to filter all these raw emotions. Should I be angry, sad, or worried? All three?

Why were they sneaking around?

ABCDEFGHIJKLMN

That weekend I stayed at home and didn't bother calling Kyle or Wendy. Usually they would be calling me to see how I was or if I wanted to do anything but that weekend I got no calls.

Sitting on my bed I stared at the ceiling mulling over everything that had been going on.

Kyle had developed some huge problem and stayed away from everyone.

Wendy got Kyle to confide in her to the point they would hang out without me knowing despite the appearance that they hated each other.

Even though I was uncomfortable with what was going on I told her to just calm down so I could try and pull everything together but she decided to break her promise and meet Kyle.

I had no idea what to think.

I glanced at my phone on Sunday's afternoon wondering if what I was about to do was right. Would it be worth it? There would be no going back once I picked up that phone.

Shutting my eyes tightly I solidified my resolve and glowering. I picked up the phone and dialed. Slowly, painfully slow, after four rings someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Wendy," I breathed out cautiously. She seemed to be surprised.

"Stan? Hey. How are you?" she asks politely and I rub my temple.

"Wendy can you do me a favor?" I ask and swing my legs over the side of my bed.

She pauses. "Sure. What?"

Stopping I gaze at my carpet a long while. I almost think she's going to hang up at the silence when I finally speak with an uneasy voice I try to harden.

"Can you call Kyle and tell him to meet me at Starks Pond in twenty minutes?"

I can now tell she's confused. She's hesitant. "Why would you want me to do that? Shouldn't you do it?"

"No. I want you to. Can you meet me there too?"

"Stan, are you okay?" she asks concerned and I grip the phone at the calmness in her voice.

"I'm fine. Will you do it?"

"S-sure. Of course."

"Thanks. Bye," and I hang up. Biting the corner of my lip I stand and go to get my jacket. This was going to be really hard.

Hopefully neither of them would hate me for it.

* * *

He's referring to the night of the derby when he snapped at him in Cartman's car

**A/N: Oh man I hope I didn't make Stan seem like an asshole. That's the total opposite of what I wanted. I wanted a concerned friend who doesn't know how to help so he can't help but get angry. This chapter is kind of choppy and rushed so I'm really sorry if it didn't tickle your fancy.**


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